The Past, Present and Future of Crona and Ragnaroc
by ChessSilven
Summary: {Anime setting} After the Kishin has been killed, Arachnophobia scattered, and Death City has been set back in place again, Crona's life begins to settle down into a calm peace. Yeah... Not really. Instead, innocent things make him relive his twisted childhood as Medusa's ward. Meanwhile, a mysterious force has been torturing and killing DWMA agents for unknown reasons.
1. Chapter 1- A Friend and a Rat

**Chapter One**

Crona stumbled slightly as he walked through the halls of the DWMA, hurrying towards his next class. He flinched at every passing person, the ever-present madness of the black blood in his veins urging him to throw his fears away and slaughter all of the other students. Crona shook his head, trying semi-successfully to shove the insanity to the back of his mind. He winced and paused as Ragnaroc burst from his back, the pop of pain as his skin split not near as bad now as when Ragnaroc had been full sized. "Hey, idiot! If you're already late for class, why not ditch the boring lesson for today and go to the candy store? My supply is running low."

"I can't! If I get too many failing grades, then I'll be expelled. I don't think I can deal with being alone again!" Crona yelped as Ragnaroc socked him in the head.

"Stupid moron! If you're not going to cut class, then what the heck are you doing just standing around? Get your scrawny ass moving, Crona!" Ragnaroc huffed impatiently, then pulled himself back into Crona's blood. Crona started shuffling along again, not looking forward to Dr. Stein's lesson. He always had them dissecting or watching a dissection of some poor creature, and that reminded Crona uncomfortably of… well, he couldn't quite remember what. Crona had had a large blank spot in his memories for as long as he could remember, up until he killed the black baby dragon when he was about six or seven.

Crona finally got to the classroom, slinking into his spot while hoping that Dr. Stein hadn't noticed that he was late. "You're late." Crona sank in his seat as all of the other students turned to look at him, his shyness hitting him like a hard slap on the cheek.

"I'm sorry…" His mumbled words were probably barely able to be heard by the scary teacher, but Dr. Stein readjusted his glasses and nodded.

"Try not to be tardy again, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, back to today's lesson! Each of you will come down here and select one of these rats, a pair of gloves, a mask, and a scalpel. Let's go now, hurry hurry…" Dr. Stein gestured towards a small tank full of dead rats, a pile of the other objects that he had named stacked beside the glass container. Crona fell into line behind Maka, who he was fortunate enough to sit next to. He wasn't sure how well he would have been able to get through being around so many other people and Dr. Stein's lectures without her comforting presence beside him. He put on the gloves and mask when it was his turn, gingerly picking up one of the dead rats and a scalpel before returning to his seat. Crona finally noticed the shiny metal trays that had been set in front of each student's seat, following suit as everyone else set their rats down on their tray. There were a few grossed out complaints, but those were quickly silenced as Dr. Stein's calculating eyes settled on them, looking like he was thinking about how they would serve as his next dissection projects. "Once you've all settled down, we'll begin."

The classroom slowly quieted as boys and girls took their seats, most of the boys prodding their rats while some of the girls had scooted their corpses as far away from them as possible. Crona felt like curling up and hiding, but he consciously forced himself to stay put. Still, he could see his hand shaking where it rested against the table. A hand reached over to hold it steady, Maka's kind smile calming Crona somewhat. He gave her a small smile in return as she squeezed his hand gently before releasing it and turning back to Dr. Stein. "Alright, follow along with me as I make this first incision. Slice a Y down it's throat, like so…"

Crona gulped, looking with great trepidation at his rat as he reluctantly picked up his scalpel. He had unfortunately gone through enough of Stein's dissection lessons to know the proper way to hold a scalpel, though it felt wrong to his hand. He was used to wielding the larger Ragnaroc with both hands, this small blade oddly familiar and yet… not, at the same time. Crona's hand was trembling again as the scalpel hovered over the deceased rodent. Finally pulling together enough courage, he pressed the sharp point against the dead rat's throat, the edge smoothly biting through the fur and flesh. Crona gasped and flinched as it seemed to move, wriggling in pain, phantom squeaks shattering through his mind; a memory of a time long past.  
 _  
"Kill it, then remove its organs." Lady Medusa's cold voice was directed at young Crona, the little boy having been watching the white rat with awed fascination. He had seen gray and black rats before, nasty creatures that skittered across the floor of his new room. Crona could only see that they were there when the door was open, the pitch black shadows hiding their dark forms easily. When the door was closed, he could only hear their tiny feet pattering across the stone, sometimes drawing close enough to him to make him flinch. Every now and then, several would gather together and attack him, scratching and biting the toddler Crona. He couldn't do much about it, seeing as how there wasn't anything in his room to stand on or attack them back with, so he had collected a mass of small scratches and bite marks on his legs and arms over the past week._

 _But this rat seemed so different from his tormentors, its pink eyes not filled with a lust for his blood, only friendly curiosity. It had actually come and sniffed at him, Crona stiffening in wariness as it had pattered over. He had closed his eyes in a wince, waiting for the shock of teeth or claws to sink into his skin, but instead of the expected pain, he ended up flinching at the shock of a nose snuffling at his bare ankle. Crona cracked one eye open to see it looking up at him, then turning around and shuffling off, losing interest in the mound of boy behind it._

 _"I don't want to." Crona frowned, realizing that came out wrong, so he started to explain. "I don't want to hurt it-"_

 _"Don't you want to make up for what you did?" Lady Medusa's voice was silky now as she cut him off, slit gold eyes studying him._

 _"Y-yes, but I don't understand how killing it will help-"_

 _Lady Medusa interrupted him again. "Kill the rat now, or you will never be able to atone for your crime." She turned away, her sudden disinterest as plain as the snake tattoos that wrapped around her arms. "I personally don't really care, but I would have thought that you cared more about him than this. After all, I need that rodent's organs to fix him."_

 _Crona whimpered, beginning to shake as his guilt and sorrow racked his small frame. "Th-this will help him?"_

 _Lady Medusa turned around, a wide smile stretched creepily across her face. He felt a shiver run up his spine at the sight, but quickly forgot that as she nodded. "I promise you that if you do this…and a few other small tasks, he will feel better than ever."_

 _Crona stood straighter, determination flooding him. "What… What do I have to do?"_

 _She pulled a small scalpel out of one of her pockets, handing it to him. "Kill it however you can, but don't destroy any of its organs or we'll have to do this again." His hand was trembling as he accepted the blade, hating what he was about to do. Crona approached the rat, his determination draining away with every step he took towards it, until finally he dropped to his knees, the scalpel hitting the marble floor beside him._

 _"I can't."_

 _Lady Medusa scoffed in disgust, Crona watching in fear as a snake slithered past him. "Fine. If you won't give it a quick, easy death, then I'll have to kill it." The snake struck, rat screeching in agony as the snake's jaws latched onto one of its hind legs. "My lovely companion over there just injected that rodent with a particularly nasty kind of venom. It will die, after a few agony-filled hours, and then you can remove its organs. However, since you wouldn't give it a swift death, I think that it's only fitting that you watch its slow demise." She strode out of the room, door slamming shut behind her, the snake curling up contentedly on the other side of the room.  
The rat writhed on the floor, shrill squeals bursting from its small mouth. Crona covered his ears and shut his eyes, sitting with his back against the wall as he tried to escape the creature's howls of distress._

 _After about ten minutes, the sounds stopped, Crona hesitating before peeking towards the rat. The rodent's figure was thrashing and squirming around on the cold marble, eyes rolling around and around in its sockets. He whimpered and shut his eyes again, shutting out the image. Guilt jabbed his mind, the thought that the rat's pain was his fault making his stomach turn. Crona flinched as a shriek thrust its way out of the rodent's foaming mouth. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" he whispered, wishing that he had just killed it when Lady Medusa had told him to. Crona picked the scalpel up as he got to his feet, slowly walking towards the suffering rat. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" He raised the blade, light flashing off of the razor edge. "Sorry, so, so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you…" The scalpel plunged down, burying itself in the rat's skull. It shuddered once, then relaxed, body going limp. Crona pulled the blade out with a shaking hand, flinching as blood spattered his hand. A tear ran down his cheek as he dropped the scalpel, catching sight of the creature's misery filled pink eyes, so different from the cheerful curiosity from only moments ago. The tear dripped onto the floor next to his hand, leaving a tiny clear drop beside the crimson droplets surrounding it._

 _The door creaked open, Medusa padding in silently with her bare feet. "Well done, Crona. Now remove the organs that I need." When he made no move to obey her, she frowned slightly, her gold eyes flashing dangerously. "You should remember what happened the last time you didn't follow my instructions, after all, it was only a few minutes ago."_

 _Crona flinched and mutely reached for the discarded scalpel again, his pale fingers wrapping around the thin metal handle. He shuddered as he rolled the rat over onto its back. "Make a light Y cut under its chin. Don't let the blade slip in too far, or it might rupture the rodent's organs."_

 _Crona, trying unsuccessfully to stop the tears that just kept rolling down his cheeks, obeyed. Blood welled up from the slice, the blade coming up red. "Now, keeping the incision light, continue down its belly and make another Y." He did so, gulping down his nausea. "Pull the flaps apart so that you can see inside."_

 _Crona numbly slipped his fingers through the slit, the flesh inside warm and sticky against his skin. He gagged as he pushed the flaps of loose skin and fur apart, revealing bloody organs and bones. "Crack the ribcage." He noted distantly how easily the fragile bone snapped between his fingers, shards making white jags in the lumps of red. "Slice those veins, then gently pull out the liver and kidneys." Crona did as he was told, following the horrific instructions to the letter. "Now the heart." As he lifted the fragile organ out of the corpse, Crona was struck by how easy it was for him to destroy something as weak as the curious rat._

 _"Excellent. Bring them." He stood shakily, his small legs trembling as Medusa stalked down the hall. Crona followed her, glancing back one last time to see the snake swallow the rat's remains whole, leaving nothing but a crimson smeared white marble floor and a dripping scarlet scalpel. As his feet carried him down the dark passage, Crona realized that he was a horrible person. Nobody could do what he'd just done and not be evil. Crona flinched at the thought, his gaze happening to fall upon his red stained hands and the small organs gently cradled there._

 _"I-I don't think that I know how to deal with this…" he admitted to himself, his voice hollow in the huge hall._

Crona gasped and dropped the scalpel onto the tray, trying to scramble back but only managing to trip over one of the legs of his chair, falling hard to the floor. He curled up into a tight ball, back to the desk behind him as his entire body shook with fear. "-ona. Crona! Look at me, are you okay?" Maka's voice was worried, a gentle hand coming to rest on his shoulder. "Crona?"

"I c-can't deal with myself…" Crona whispered faintly in between soft sobs. He hated his life up until this point, knowing that he was an awful being who shouldn't be alive after the cruelty he had unleashed. Crona's new friends insisted that it was Lady Medusa's fault, but he knew that he was a monster. The more memories of his childhood that Crona remembered, the more certain he was of the fact that he was scum through and through. What little kids did the evil things that he had done? Even the most viciously brutal criminals waited until they were adults before becoming villains. Crona couldn't understand why all these heroic people wanted him to be their friend; he'd tried to kill them all at one point or another. He huddled into a tighter ball. The only good thing that he'd ever done was to save Maka from his mo- Lady Medusa, and that had almost been for completely selfish reasons. He had hoped that he would die there and save his new-found friends the trouble of being around him and his monstrous personality but they had saved and fixed him, being the heroes that they were, the only remnant of the battle being the healing scar on his chest.

"Professor Stein? Can Crona and I be excused?"

"… I suppose so."

Crona sensed Maka kneeling next to him, the warm hand returning to his shoulder. "Come on, let's go to your room." He nodded mutely, getting to his feet and silently following the blonde as she strode confidently through the rows of staring students. Crona could feel the disgust that they had towards his weakness, their gazes hostile as he walked past. He deserved all of it and more, but it still hurt.

They got to his room, which had been recently converted from a cell. It hadn't really changed much, the biggest difference being that his door stayed open rather than being locked shut all the time. It was comfortable to him, the room being just big enough that his mild claustrophobia didn't kick in, and not big enough that it felt empty. A thin rug covered the stone floor, a small lamp set on his desk lighting up the space with a warm glow, and his bed sat against one wall.

Crona didn't need much space because he didn't have many things that he had to store, the objects that he owned being limited to; three outfits; the black robe he was wearing, one of the only things that Medusa had ever given him, the white shirt and pants that Dr. Stein had given him when he enrolled in school, and a perfectly symmetrical dark grey suit that Kid had given him, several educational books from Maka, his school books, and a little chest under his bed that held; a small sketch pad that Miss Marie had found somewhere along with a packet of colored pencils, a silver chain necklace with a serpent charm, and several photos of Crona and his friends. Oh, and Ragnaroc's stash of candy, the grumpy Weapon's one weakness. Ragnaroc was addicted to sugar, the small high he got apparently similar to when he ate human souls.

"What happened, Crona?" Maka asked, sitting beside him on his bed. He refused to look at her, knowing that seeing him crying always upset her. Crona willed the tears to stop, not wanting to hurt his companion, but every time he remembered the blade sinking into the rat's head they started back up again. "Crona?"  
Crona almost sank into the floor as Ragnaroc made an appearance, the black blood flowing up to form his non-muscular figure. "Wuss!" Ragnaroc sneered, popping Crona in the head. "You're just pathetic, you know that? Getting scared of a memory with your mommy in it. How stupid can you be, dumbass?" The words were accompanied by blows, Ragnaroc's white hands cuffing his ears.

"MAKA...CHOP!" ****

**WHACK!**

Ragnaroc whimpered, holding his own head where a large indent had appeared. "What the hell is wrong with you, flat girl? You can't just go around beating the shit out of people with books!"

"Wanna bet?"

Ragnaroc jerked one hand at her, probably making a rude gesture, but with his round hands it was hard to tell. He slipped back into Crona with a muttered, "Bitch."

"S-sorry about that…" Crona offered, feeling even worse than before.

"Don't worry about him, that wasn't your fault." A white gloved hand slipped under his chin, guiding his head up from where he was staring at the floor. Maka's green eyes were serious, concern mixing with half-concealed anger. He flinched, wondering how much of that anger was turned towards him. "Was what he said true? Did another of your memories with Medusa come back?"

Crona's gaze fell from hers, staring at the corner of his room rather than into those emerald eyes that were steadily filling with rage. "Y-Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head violently, almost falling off the bed.

She nodded thoughtfully, then moved to sit in the room's chair. "Why don't you sketch it out? The next class isn't for another half hour."

Crona really didn't want to, but he could tell that Maka was going to have him deal with his memory one way or another, and he preferred to draw than talk; sketches being able to be ripped up while conversations had no such comforting quality. Crona sighed and reached under his bed, sliding out the small chest and pulling out the sketch pad. Almost half the pages were missing now, Crona having been drawing out his returning memories more and more lately. There were only a handful of his drawings that Maka had never seen, Crona having stashed them under his mattress. For some reason Maka always wanted to keep his disturbing sketches rather than letting him destroy them after they were finished. He didn't really care if she took them just as long as he never had to see them again, but he hated showing her how brutally vicious he was at his core.

It only took him twenty minutes to draw out the figures, the last ten minutes being spent on coloring and shading. Crona finally tucked the small stub of his red pencil away, wearily realizing that his picture was done.

"Finished?"

"Y-yeah."

Maka stood, walking over. "Do you mind if I see it?"

He hesitated, then sighed and handed the thin pad over. She gasped slightly as she saw it, face paling momentarily. Crona looked down at the floor again, thinking about Maka's emotions. The one he saw the most when she was with him was cheerful kindness, something he didn't deserve, as was the second which was seeping into her eyes now; pity. The third most common emotion was anger, something Crona knew that only he and Soul brought out in the even-tempered girl. His fists clenched momentarily, his own anger flaring briefly at her pity. Crona wasn't the one who deserved her pity, all of his victims were! Then the anger drained away, replaced by a dull ache as she gave him a strong hug. "Crona, I'm so sorry."

Surprise flooded the thin boy. "Wh-what? Why? I'm the one who did…that."

"I'm so sorry that you grew up with that horrible woman for a mother. Crona, this-" holding the picture up, "this wasn't your fault." He stared blankly at the page, the horrible images that he had drawn turning his stomach.

The dark room, lit only by a dull overhead light. The scalpel lying beside the sliced up rat, blood staining the clean white floor a nasty red. His crimson splattered hands, holding the organs of the deceased rodent. The back of Lady Medusa, her hooded figure plain as she strode off. Finally, Crona had added a sketch of the live rat above everything else, trying hard to capture that inquisitive sociability that had caught his attention and sympathy so long ago.

Maka folded the paper up. "Do you mind if I keep this?"

"I-if you want."

She slipped the drawing into her jacket pocket, then turned her focus back on Crona. "Answer me this, did you want to hurt that rat?"

Crona shuddered, not understanding what that had to do with anything. "No."

"Then why did you do it?"

"B-because I had to help fix someone I had hurt, and Lady Medusa said that they needed its organs."

Curiosity flickered on her face. "Who did you hurt?"

Crona opened his mouth to answer, but realized that he couldn't remember. All he knew was that whoever he had hurt was very important to him. "I d-don't remember."

Maka nodded, still hugging him with one arm. "That's okay. Did you enjoy killing it?"

Crona's heart hurt as he heard the question, realizing that Maka really thought that he might have liked that. "No! Of course not!"

"So what you're telling me is that Medusa told you to kill the rat, but you didn't want to and you didn't enjoy it."

Crona nodded, then jerked slightly as he realized what she had just said. He peeked up at Maka, only to see her smiling at him. "You'd never thought of it like that, had you?"

"N-no…"

"Here's another point. Do you think that Professor Stein is good?"

Crona thought about it moment before nodding again. The doctor was creepy and a little crazy, but overall he was a very good man. "Well, he had a lot of rats killed for today's lesson. He may not have killed them himself-" Maka frowned. "actually, he probably did kill them himself. But anyway, do you still think that he's not bad?"

"Yes."

"Then why are you being so hard on yourself over following Medusa's orders?"

Ragnaroc quickly oozed back out, the speed with which he came out making Crona gasp in pain. "Because he's an idiot!"

Maka hefted a sturdy book, the threat inherent in her body language. Ragnaroc flinched and shut up. "Are you feeling better?"

Crona nodded, surprised that he wasn't lying. "Yes. Thank you, Maka."

Maka hugged him tightly again before standing and offering him her gloved hand. "Come on, or we're going to be late for Miss Marie's lesson!"


	2. Chapter 2 - Torture and a Favour

*********************Chapter Two*******************************

Crona was lying on his bed in his shorts, almost asleep when someone banged on his door. "Hey, kid! Coming in!"

The door slammed open, Crona jumping in shock to pull a blanket over himself as the huge zombie Sid clomped in. "Ah. Sorry about that, but Lord Death wanted to see you. Apparently there's another emergency that needs to get taken care of." Sid turned around to give Crona some privacy as he hurriedly put on his white uniform, muttering darkly, "I never used to barge into people's rooms without permission, you know. That was just the kind of man that I was."

As they trotted down the halls and passages, Crona wondered what was going on. Was he in trouble? Ragnaroc slid out of his back, yawning loudly and stretching.

"What the hell are you still doing up, Crona? You're so pathetic that you never stay up past nine." Crona's Weapon's eyes fell on Sid. "Oh, crap! Is this about stealing that bag of candy from those twerps in class? If it is, then I just want you to know that it was Crona's idea."

"What?" Crona was immediately whacked, Ragnaroc hissing at him to shut up. "But I didn't-"

"Actually, I never heard about that." Sid turned his head towards the duo, Ragnaroc audibly gulping as he ducked behind Crona's head. "And just this once, I'm going to pretend I still haven't."

"Sweet!" Ragnaroc roared, inasmuch as the tiny version of him could, voice exultant. "You are definitely my favorite teacher!"

Sid grinned as they walked under the guillotine blades and into the head master's office. "Oh, hello Crona!" Tsubaki greeted him softly, waving a hand at him. Crona waved back at her, a small smile on his lips.

"What the hell am I? Chopped liver?" Ragnaroc fumed, arms crossed as he glared at the girl.

"Hello Ragnaroc."

"Whatever."

"What's up, little people? Fall to your knees in awe at the amazingness that is the one and only Black Star!" Black Star jumped off the top of the mirror on the center of the room, flipping in the air before hitting the ground and striking a pose. Tsubaki began to clap, a tolerant smile tugging at her lips, Crona joining in. Black Star simultaneously impressed and intimidated Crona to no end, his fearless bluster something that Crona envied even as it unsettled him. "Thank you, thank you. I know that your applause is well deserved, but it never hurts to hear."

"'Sup, everybody?" Soul smirked as he and Maka entered the room, Maka waving cheerfully at Crona and Tsubaki.

"Sid, do you know what's going on?" Maka asked, green eyes studying the blue man curiously. "Why did we get summoned here at-" she checked her watch, "Eleven twenty at night?"

The giant zombie shook his head, a frustrated frown on his face. "Sorry, and we can't go on without Kid, Liz, Patty and Stein."

It took another five minutes for the other four to arrive, but Crona could hear them from the other end of the hall. "Seriously Kid? You had to make sure that all of the rugs were exactly horizontal to the doors after the Professor told you that there was an emergency? You need to work on your priorities." Liz sounded peeved, her tone shrill.

"I understand, but-"

"No! No buts, Kid! You really need to get over your obsession!"

"That's a task easier said than done, Liz;I've had this compulsion ever since I was a very young child. Besides, I must admit that I rather enjoy the satisfaction that accompanies perfect symmetry, even if it is a difficult path to walk at times."

Liz shook her head as they entered the room, expression exasperated. "Kid, you have a problem."

Stein grinned, twisting the giant screw in his head a few clicks tighter. "I could always tinker inside that fascinating mind of yours, see if I could get rid of your obsessive-compulsive disorder…"

Kid paled and took a step away from him, cheering up when he caught sight of the group. "Good evening."

"Howdy howdy!" Lord Death's voice surprised everyone, the headmaster popping out of the mirror behind them. "What's up, everyone? Having a good evening?"

"What's this crisis that you called us down here about, Father?" Kid asked after everyone politely greeted their slightly spastic headmaster.

"Oh." Death straightened, his manner suddenly serious. Everyone unconsciously leaned forward, the tension in the air so thick you probably could have cut it. "Do you think that I should repaint the Death Room? The Keishen did a number on it, so now would be the time to do any changes! What do you think?"

"Wh-what?" Kid's voice was weak as he stared at his father, expression stunned.

"I was having a hard time choosing between a view of woods, a winter scene or maybe even a stormy day. So… opinions, anyone?"

Sid and Kid's eyes twitched, Kid making an odd sound as Lord Death watched them inquisitively. "A winter scene might be nice…" Soul said finally, Maka shooting him a disbelieving stare. Death bounced, large hands clapping together.

"I know, but that seems like it would make you feel cold all of the time."

Soul shrugged, and that was when Black Star joined in. "You should make a huge painting of me in there! That would be perfect, after all, I'm the one who surpassed god!"

"DEATH CHOP!" Black Star lay on the ground bleeding, an indent of Lord Death's hand in the back of his head.

"So was that a no?" he asked weakly before passing out.

"In any case, the more important reason I called you all down here is because that there have been attacks on agents of ours all around the world."

"If they've been all over the world, then how can you tell that they're related incidents?" Tsubaki asked as she hurried over to Black Star's side.

"That's a good question! All of the attacked agents had a symbol, a skull in front of crossed scythes, carved into the palm of their right hand. There haven't been any survivors, all twenty eight of them being killed in horrible ways that I won't go into right now. Well, there haven't been any survivors until tonight, one right here in Death City."

"Who was attacked?" Maka asked. Death glanced her way, an almost apologetic look on his face.

"Your father, Spirit."

Maka paled, Soul putting a comforting hand around her shoulders. "Is he okay?"

Death hesitated, then waved a hand at his mirror, the glass rippling momentarily. When it settled, it showed Spirit on a hospital bed, bandages almost completely engulfing the man. He appeared to be unconscious; something that Crona could tell was a good thing. Having had enough various injuries in his fifteen years he had gotten an elementary sense of how bad wounds were, and Spirit's were very, very bad.

"He's alive and in stable condition, but your father is going to be out of commission for a few days, at the very least." Stein's words were slightly muffled by the cigarette that he had just stuck in his mouth. "Spirit was found about an hour ago beaten to a pulp in a back alley. He never gained consciousness to tell us who attacked him." He held a match to the tip of his cigarette, the end glowing as it caught. "Whoever it was didn't want Spirit dead, which makes me wonder what was different about him than the others."

"What does that mean?" Tsubaki asked him, her expression horrified. Crona flinched, knowing exactly what it meant, having been given wounds that looked somewhat similar to this before.  
 _  
Five-year-old Crona ran down a hall, shaking like a leaf. That hadn't looked like the Ragnaroc that he knew! This Ragnaroc sneered evilly, his voice cruel as he taunted Crona. Crona ducked into one of the many rooms that dotted the passage, hiding under a table. What had he done? Lady Medusa had warned him not to look under the sheet, but to see Ragnaroc again… Then he had woken up, and everything was wrong about him. Crona's trembling got worse as he remembered how his beloved best friend had shoved him into the wall and pulled his hair, chuckling the entire time._

 _"Crona…" Ragnaroc's voice was singsong, heavy footsteps clomping down the hall. "Come out, come out wherever you are…"_

 _Lady Medusa's cold voice was directed at Ragnaroc. "Remember, you can have as much… fun, with him as you want, but don't kill or break him. You two should make a very interesting experiment, and I don't want it ruined by your idiocy. Understood?"_

 _"Sure." Lady Medusa always went barefoot, so Crona was never able to tell where she was, her footsteps silent against the hard floors. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his arm, yanking him out from under the table. Lady Medusa's gold slit eyes studied him for a moment before shoving him into Ragnaroc's waiting grasp. "Hey, little buddy! I've been looking everywhere for you."_

 _Ragnaroc's words were innocent, but Crona could hear an undertone of malice. Fear began to wiggle in Crona's stomach._

 _"Ragnaroc, let me go please?" Ragnaroc scowled, his grip tightening._

 _"Shut up." He glanced around the room, eyes lighting up at something on the table. Ragnaroc dragged Crona back to the table, easily holding the younger boy with one arm while the other grabbed the coil of rope. "Hey, Lady M. You mind getting this up there?" Medusa, who had just sat down in a chair on the other side of the room, sent Ragnaroc an icy glare. "Fine, fine. Just asking."_

 _Crona watched as he threw half of the rope up, Ragnaroc's brute strength sending the cord flying over one of the room's rafters. Stepping on one end, Ragnaroc used the other half to tie Crona's hands together tightly. Pulling the other end, he forced Crona's hands over his head, the small boy soon having to stand on tip toe to keep his weight off of his arms. Ragnaroc tied the loose section to a firmly fastened metal decoration on the opposite wall, walking back towards Crona with a happy grin. "It's been a while, huh? Let's see, the last time I saw you, you gave me this." He fingered the huge thick white scar that crisscrossed over his nose. "I never got to say how much I appreciated that. So here… let me show you." Ragnaroc slammed a fist into Crona's stomach, the five-year-old trying to double over but only managing to bruise his wrists._

 _"Ragnaro-"_

 _"Shut up, you little twerp!" CRACK! Crona's head snapped back, Ragnaroc's kick catching him under the chin. Crona's chin was throbbing from the blow, but that was nothing compared to his mental anguish. Where was his kind protector who had been teaching him to use a sword? Ragnaroc's eyes flashed with anger. THWACK! A fist to his side… SMACK! An elbow to his face… Thud thud thud thud thud! A barrage of blows, one after another… Crona coughed, tasting blood in his mouth._

 _"Ragnaroc…" his voice was weak and full of pain, but he still managed to catch the older boy's attention. "What happened to you?"_

 _Ragnaroc's expression darkened. "You happened to me, you damn shit! Don't you remember?" Crona's eyes widened at Ragnaroc's foul language. "What, you don't like cursing? Well too fucking bad for you!" Ragnaroc paused suddenly, an evil smile growing on his face. "You know what? Instead of showing you how little I liked getting this," gesturing sharply at his face, "maybe I should just let you find out for yourself, huh?"_

 _He held out his right fist, and it abruptly began to flatten and sharpen, turning into a black and silver blade. Ragnaroc gently ran the razor edge along Crona's cheek, his smile only growing as Crona whimpered. Fear was now pulsing through every vein of his body, terror of the boy in front of him making him shake harder than a tree in a hard wind. The pain in his aching body from his beating wasn't helping either, not to mention his feet were starting to cramp from standing on his toes for so long, and his wrists were rubbed raw from the tough rope encircling them. "D-don't, please…"_

 _Ragnaroc's smile was pure malevolence as the blade slashed Crona's face, crimson trickling into his left eye from the cut that ran from over his eyebrow to the bottom of the opposite cheek. Crona yelped loudly, the first sound of pain that he had made so far. "Hurts, doesn't it? And that wasn't even close to the size of blade that I got hit with. Come to think of it, that isn't near as deep either, but I'll make up for quality with quantity." The blade flashed again, and pain seared across the other side of his face, Crona now having to keep both eyes shut to keep blood from seeping in._

 _He heard Ragnaroc's deep chuckle, the other boy apparently having a great time, then he howled as the biting knife sank into his side deeply, going all the way up to Ragnaroc's wrist. "Idiot! I told you not to give him any mortal wounds!" Crona had forgotten about Lady Medusa, but she sounded furious._

 _"Sorry," Ragnaroc muttered, brutally ripping the blade back out. Crona's tortured cry was cut off as a fist cracked into his stomach, sending daggers of pain tearing through his entire torso. "Shut the hell up." The razor sharp edge slipped through Crona's back, sides and arms, but Ragnaroc never went deeper than an inch again._

 _By the time that Ragnaroc had finished dicing him up, Crona had given up any pretense of strength; he hung limply from the rope, hot salty tears scalding the slices under his eyes._

 _Suddenly the cord slackened, letting Crona crumple to the floor. A booted foot smashed into his slashed up chest, sending him flying briefly before slamming hard into a wall. He gagged momentarily, blood blocking his windpipe, before spitting the copper-tasting liquid out onto the floor._

 _A strong hand grabbed his throat, sliding him up the wall. Crona feebly fought against the strong arm that held him up, but he felt Ragnaroc's grip squeeze further, and he knew that he was about to die at his best friend's hand._

 _"That's enough."_

 _Lady Medusa's voice was uncaring but firm, Ragnaroc letting Crona fall. Ragnaroc's boot pressed against his deepest blade wound, Crona's soft moan turning into an agonized wail before the pain finally overcame him and he lost consciousness._

"H-he was tortured, wasn't he." Crona was as surprised as everyone else by the quiet words that fell from his lips, immediately flushing and staring at his boots.

"No, no. Of course not! Spirit was just apparently in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all!" Lord Death's cheerful voice assured them. That doesn't seem right, Crona thought to himself, not convinced.

Maka spoke up, her voice cold and harsh, neither something that Crona had ever heard in her voice before. "Why wasn't I told about this?" Crona looked up towards her, and flinched. Her face was filled with fury, though her green eyes were teary.

Lord Death put his hands up in a why-don't-we-all-calm-down gesture. "Now now, why don't we all just calm down, we're telling you now, aren't we?"

Maka stepped towards him, hands clenching into fists. "I'm not going to calm down. I'm his daughter whether I like it or not, and I have a right to know when my father's in the hospital!"

"Maka, cool down-" Soul started, only to get an angry glare.

"No! I won't!"

Crona tentatively stepped forward; hating to see his friend in such pain, but not sure if he could deal with trying to comfort her. He reached out a hand, gingerly placing it on her shoulder. She spun on him, making Crona flinch again, but he managed to hold his ground and keep eye contact long enough to stammer, "Th-the people who hurt y-your dad, they should be scared. Look a-around at all your friends who w-want to help you. Y-your dad, he might be in th-the hospital right now, but he's got Dr. Stien working to fix him."

"Yeah!" Ragnaroc joined in, making Crona's eyes widen. "Sure, he might end up with a few toes switched around, but who cares, right? Besides, when we catch up with those bastards, I'll teach them a few lessons. I'll even eat their souls for ya!"

Maka didn't smile, but her frown did lessen. Soul put an arm around her shoulders again, turning her to see the rest of the kids in the room. "Don't sweat it, Maka. We'll get those guys and make them pay for what they did to your dad. As for Sid and the others not telling you about your dad, that wasn't cool. But give them a break, they're only adults."

Death and Sid blinked, Stein only blowing a stream of smoke out his mouth and grinning.

"Yeah, we'll bust 'em up good!" Patty exclaimed, making 'pppsshow' noises as she punched the air, Liz patting her sister's shoulder while Kid raised an eyebrow.

"Anyone who messes with my friends gets the full wrath of the mighty Black Star!" Black Star had apparently regained consciousness, Tsubaki kneeling beside him.

"Do you have any ideas on where Spirit's attacker or attackers might be, father?" Kid asked, his two-tone amber eyes cold.

"No, or we would already have agents on their way there." Lord Death sounded tired, his shoulders sagging slightly. "What I wanted you kids to do was go to the scene of the crime and snoop around, since people tend to trust children more than adults, and see if you could find anything that we couldn't. But if you want to stay at the hospital with Spirit, I more than understand."

Maka scowled at the floor, then nodded. "I'll go." The other kids all agreed too, Lord Death thanking them for their understanding. They walked back under the guillotine arches, Sid and Stein having stayed behind to talk with Death a while longer.

When Crona turned to head back to his room, Ragnaroc ducking back into his blood after his unexpected comments earlier, he was surprised by Maka trotting after him and grabbing his sleeve. "Hey, can we talk a minute?"

Crona nodded, walking after her a little ways down toward his room. She turned to face him, face set with determination. "I wanted to thank you for what you said back there. I needed to hear that."

He smiled softly, rubbing his arm. "I'm glad."

Maka hesitated, then continued on, a hint of pleading in her voice. "I also wanted to ask you a favor."

Crona looked up in surprise. "I'd do anything for you." He flushed at his mindless confession, hoping that Maka wouldn't be mad. She had been his steady stone to hold onto in the harshly flowing river of confusion following the Kishin's death, when people had time to realize that he was the once feared demon swordsman. There had been many cruel taunts and jibes once they got through their initial oh-crud-is-he-going-to-kill-me phase, all of which had been deflated by his small group of friends, Maka especially. Actually, some of the hostility still remained, though it was mostly shown in empty halls and dark halls, 'when his powerful friends couldn't save him', to quote one of his bullies. In any case, he was beginning to suspect that he had a crush on the pretty scythe Maister, and was more than willing to do whatever favor she asked of him to the best of his abilities.

Maka's green eyes softened, then grew slightly nervous as she rushed through her next sentences. "Would you stay and keep an eye on my dad for me? The fact that he's the only survivor in twenty eight attacks is worrying me. I-I'm scared that whoever did this might come back to finish the job."

Crona frowned. "Of course I'll protect your dad as best I can, but shouldn't you say something to Lord Death or Dr. Stein?"

Maka's eyes sparked with anger. "I don't believe that my dad's attack was just an accident, but you heard them in there when you suggested that it might have been intentional. If they won't even tell me why my own father has been hurt, then I don't really trust them too much."

He nodded, understanding her point of view but still feeling uncomfortable about not telling the adults about their hunch. "Promise me that you'll keep my dad safe while I'm gone? You should only have to watch him for a few days; Stein works quick miracles."

"I promise." Maka gave him a tight hug, Crona stiffening momentarily in shock before returning the embrace.

"Thank you, Crona. This means a lot."


	3. Chapter 3 - Stripes and Ragnaroc's Skin

**************************************************Chapter Three***************************************************************************

Ragnaroc lay awake inside Crona's sleeping mind, thinking about how odd it felt being just a section of a being. There were two main parts; him, whatever he was, and the rude Ragnaroc. There were also several different odds and ends that were also apparently part of Ragnaroc that didn't have personal identities, such as his Weapon form and the black blood. Both of those parts were controlled by the two main halves of Ragnaroc.

The rude Ragnaroc was able to push himself out of Crona's skin and was also able to transform into Ragnaroc's Weapon form; a long iron Sword with a stripe of silver running up the center, silver studded straps wrapped around the black leather hilt and first few inches of midnight black blade.

On the other hand was… well, the other half of Ragnaroc. That part of his being was trapped in Crona's mind; not really being able to do anything but sit around and watch what Crona and the rude part of Ragnaroc did, his abilities limited to being able to control the black blood in Crona's veins. All in all, Ragnaroc felt that it really bit being only half of a being.

He finally fell asleep, one of the other few things he could do, after sitting around for a while wondering for the millionth time what in the heck he was. Ragnaroc was pretty sure that he wasn't his original self's soul, but the only other possibility that he had been able to come up with was that he was what was left of his original identity.

Whatever he was, it never failed to weird him out that he had a little den inside of Crona's head, complete with comfortable chairs, a table, a bed, and a huge flat screen.  
The screen was split up into four monitors; one showing what Crona saw, another what he was thinking about, the other two showing what the rude Ragnaroc saw and thought. One nice thing about being him was that somehow or another he could understand what all four screens were playing out; he 'overheard' and could watch what both the rude Ragnaroc and Crona were thinking, seeing and hearing at the same time.

Watching had been a lot nicer lately, Crona's thoughts a lot happier than they had been with his mother. Ragnaroc had spent a lot of time with his hands in his ears, eyes closed tightly while Crona was tortured mentally and physically by both his mother and the rude Ragnaroc, though it never helped. The same thing that helped him to know what was going on also wouldn't turn off; so no matter what he did, he always knew what awful things were happening to his young Maister.

The nicer and more peaceful times still had their dark times though, Crona having been remembering more and more of his early childhood. Ragnaroc had forgotten his past too, only remembering flashes up until about the same point as Crona. He figured that it had something to do with his being having been ripped to pieces, and was glad that he didn't remember more. However, with every memory that Crona regained, Ragnaroc gained a memory of the same time.

Ragnaroc woke up a little after Crona did, flopping into one of the chairs just as the tall teenager went to take a shower. The water cascaded over his lean body, his body actually mostly muscle. However, due to some unfortunate experimentation on his mother's part, Crona looked like a scrawny wimp; something that wasn't helped by the fact that he always had his shoulders up to his ears, half expecting to get hit at any moment.

Ragnaroc also saw the thin black slashes that cut across Crona's torso, some also running around his legs, arms and one particularly large one wrapping from behind his right ear across to his left pectoral. He heard Crona wonder, as he always did when he saw the marks, what exactly had happened to him. The ink black stripes were one of the reasons that the boy didn't wear t-shirts or shorts around his friends, Crona always thinking that he wouldn't know how to deal with it if they freaked out over the marks. Of course, Ragnaroc could have told him that they would just accept the slashes as part of him, with no judgments or scorn, but the little fact that he couldn't get out of a room in Crona's mind kept him from speaking with the timid teen. Another thing that he might have told him was that he remembered how Crona had received the black stripes, and who had given them to him.  
 _  
Rude Ragnaroc tightened his grip on the five-year-old Crona's neck, the little boy fighting weakly before beginning to go limp.  
"That's enough." Medusa's voice cracked into the silence, lined with icy disdain for both Ragnaroc and Crona. He sneered at the toddler before letting him fall to the floor, Crona gasping as he hit the ground.  
_

 _Ragnaroc's hatred for the kid in front of him overrode his fear of the woman behind him and he placed one heavy boot onto the deepest blade wound he had inflicted, the stupid brat's soft yelp turning into a harsh scream as the rude Ragnaroc pressed harder on the injury. The boy shuddered, his entire body stiffening, then he sagged against the floor, out like a light._

 _"Little bastard!" Ragnaroc hissed, looking at the crimson smear staining his boots.  
_

 _"Here." Ragnaroc squeaked, jumping in surprise as Medusa spoke, the creepy witch somehow having managed to get from across the room to directly behind him without making a sound. "Get as much of this into his injuries as you can, except for the slashes on his face." She handed him a vial of black ooze, some of his blood and soul mixed with a few secret ingredients. He grabbed the crystal container, considering dumping the entire bottle onto the stupid kid's face just to spite her, but decided that he still liked living too much._

 _"Why the hell do I have to do this?" he asked, kneeling next to Crona's motionless form. "I'm not the mad scientist who wants to experiment on her own kid."_

 _"Because I told you to, and I'm the only reason that you're alive right now."_

 _"Shit. If you're going to bring that up in every argument, then I almost wish you hadn't brought me back."_

 _Medusa gave that creepily evil smile of hers, the one that looked like it stretched all the way across her face. "Oh, I can remedy that quite easily. I'm sure that your other self would be very willing to have a body in return for helping me create the perfect weapon."_

 _Ragnaroc flinched. "Fine, fine! I'm doing it already." He uncorked the vial, carefully letting a drop fall into each of the cuts and slashes that he had inflicted upon Crona, roughly smudging the sludge-like liquid to cover each wound. "Bitch," he muttered quietly as he waited for the black blood to sink in. When it had, he carelessly flipped the boy's small figure over, repeating the process on the other side. "There. All done."_

 _"Excellent. Here, drink half of this, and introduce the other half to an open cut." Medusa gave him a second vial._

 _He transformed his right hand back into the tip of his Weapon form, scratching the palm of his left hand deep enough to leave a line of crimson and tipping the slime out into his wound. Ragnaroc gritted his teeth, the black blood burning as it seeped into the wound. He eyed the other half, concerned about what drinking that gunk would do to his insides, then downed it. The black liquid oozed down his throat making the Weapon gag as it went down, finally settling in his stomach with a loud gurgle. "Ugh! This stuff tastes like crap, lady!"_

 _"Oh, but I think that you'll appreciate the effects that it has." Medusa smiled again, gesturing towards his wrist. "Look at your cut." He tilted his hand upward, raising his eyebrows as he saw that his cut had healed completely, leaving only a thin black line._

 _"Sweet." Ragnaroc commented, then something occurred to him and made his smirk turn into a scowl. He knelt next to Crona, wiping some of the blood off of the twerp's chest with his ruined shirt. Sure enough, the boy's wounds had healed as well, long black stripes all that remained of his last half hour's fun. "Fuck!" Ragnaroc grabbed Crona's shoulder, turning him face up. "Why isn't there a big black X on the brat's face?"_

 _"The black blood only leaves black coloring in the first wounds that it is introduced to. After the host has been… infected, shall we say, it merely soaks in without leaving any markings."_

 _He froze as her words soaked in. "Wait, infected? What the hell did you just have me put in myself?"_

 _"Relax, fool. That was just a figure of speech. The black blood has no ill effects that I have seen in my other test subjects, other than black colored blood and the mark from the original entry."_

 _"So why are you having us infected?"_

 _Medusa gave him an innocent glance, gold eyes amused as she replied. "Because without the black blood's regenerative powers, I don't think that either of you would survive this. Nake Snake Cobra Cobera!"_

 _Ragnaroc felt his blood twist and roil in his veins, his skin darkening as the black blood pushed the rest of his red blood out, the Weapon screaming as his skin was shredded and shoved off by the exiting rush of crimson. He continued to howl as his skeleton rubberized, his entire form only held together by the black blood and Medusa's magic. Ragnaroc shrieked in pure undiluted agony as what was left of him was forced into Crona's body, the unconscious boy doing a little pained moaning of his own as his skin was ripped open, the black blood in his body going to connect with the black blood figure that was Ragnaroc. Ragnaroc cried out in terror and pain as he felt himself dissolve into the black ooze, slowly being consumed back into Crona's small figure._

Ragnaroc shuddered at the memory of how the rude Ragnaroc had come to reside in Crona's bloodstream, the sheer horror of Medusa's actions leaving him physically ill every time he thought about it too long.

Crona had finished his shower by then, pulling on the white uniform that Stein had given him and rushing out the door to go and check on Maka's father before classes started. Crona trotted into the medical room, quietly closing the door behind him and walking over to the Death Scythe's bed. Ragnaroc hissed quietly as he saw the mass of bandages, Spirit looking like he was wrapped up tighter than the Kishin had been. Crona jumped and let out a soft squeak of surprise as a hand rested on his shoulder. He spun to see Stein standing behind him, clipboard in hand. "Crona, what are you doing here? I thought that you were going to check out the alley with the others."  
Ragnaroc shook his head in amusement as Crona stiffened, trying to think up a good excuse.

'I got sick, so- No, I definitely don't want to say that. Um… I got lost- That wouldn't work either. I've been living here too long to use that excuse. I-I… Oh, I can't tell Stein that Maka asked me to keep an eye on Spirit for her; I promised her that I wouldn't! But I don't know how to deal with lying, especially to an adult.'

"Here to see how Spirit's doing, hm?" Stein asked, gray eyes glinting behind his glasses. Crona stiffened further, worry that the crazy scientist had somehow guessed why he was here. "Spirit would probably be touched that someone cared. If you'd like to sit with him for a while, there's a chair over in that corner." Crona nodded enthusiastically, Ragnaroc chuckling at the timid Maister's overwhelming relief. The teen sat down and watched as Stein checked the various medical machines, marking notes down on the clipboard as he did so. Crona had to leave after a while to avoid being late for his first lesson, having gotten to the door when Stein's hand caught his shoulder again.

"Y-yes, professor?"

Stein gave him a small, genuine smile. "Don't worry about Spirit, he should be back to his womanizing ways in a matter of days. Weapons heal much faster than even Maisters do, and the fact that he's a Death Scythe only makes him heal that much quicker. He's going to be fine."

Crona nodded awkwardly, his hands wringing unconsciously as he stared at the floor. "Y-yeah."

Stein patted his shoulder once more before pulling out a cigarette and fiddling with it absently. "You should head on to class. I'll be there in a few moments; there are just a few more things I have to do here first."

Crona nodded again, walking down the hall until the sound of the door swinging shut behind him rang out through the passage, then he doubled back to peer through the glass. Stein was kneeling next to the bed, fists clenching the sheet on the bed tightly.

He appeared to be talking, Crona pushing the door open a crack to hear the soft words. "Hey, Spirit. I know that it's a scientific improbability that you can actually hear anything right now, and I don't normally talk to patients, but just this once…" The doctor sighed, head drooping wearily against his chest. "I really hate lying to the kids. Crona was right last night; you were admitted with over forty cuts, three broken ribs, twenty-seven burns, splintered wrists and one heck of a black eye. That isn't even counting the concussion and internal bleeding. While I understand that keeping the kids moral up right now is important, I've got a feeling that telling them just how dangerous whoever beat you up are would be a lot more helpful. I wish that you were awake to help me figure out what to do; you know when my madness is infecting my actions, but I suppose then I wouldn't need to tell them anything because you could tell Lord Death who attacked you."

Running a hand through his gray hair, Stein rested his head on the bed. "Damn it, Spirit, you need to hurry and wake up; there are so many people who are worried about you. Maka was in last night before the kids left, though she'd probably kill me if I ever mentioned it to you when you gain consciousness. Even Crona stopped by a few minutes ago, and that boy is terrified of me. Though to be honest, I think that the first time we met was after his mother had driven me completely insane, so I may not have been at my most friendly. Maybe he's afraid that I'm still holding a grudge against him for his actions or his mother's. In either case, it took a lot of courage to hang out in here with me, though I suspect that Maka may have talked him into keeping an eye on you while she's away." Stein chuckled softly into the fabric before pulling back and looking at the clock. "Hmm, it seems that I may end up being late. How hypocritical of me."

"Dumb ass." Rude Ragnaroc had apparently come out of his room while Ragnaroc was engrossed, making him jump as the comical black figure spoke. "He's gonna get caught, and then I'm going to have to listen to him blubber about 'not knowing how to deal' with whatever punishment he gets."

The rude Ragnaroc was able to hang out with Ragnaroc in what he called the 'mind room', but rude Ragnaroc was also able to go into a separate room or go out into the real world while Ragnaroc was sadly stuck in the one room.

Rude Ragnaroc rolled his eyes at Ragnaroc's silence and walked towards one of the walls, a door appearing as he got closer. Rude Ragnaroc yanked it open, storming into the swirling blackness that awaited him beyond the frame. A second later, the second half of the screen fizzed back to life, rude Ragnaroc popping Crona on the back of his head and hissing angrily, "Hey, moron! Get out of here before we get caught, unless you _want_ us to get expelled!" Crona flinched and nodded, skulking away silently towards the school room.

Ragnaroc looked towards the ceiling, waiting for his alter ego to get back. Sure enough, rude Ragnaroc fell into the room, bouncing slightly as he hit the floor.  
He strode back into his room, the grumpily dignified actions only looking comical from the four-foot tall boy, slamming his door hard enough that Ragnaroc heard a picture fall in rude Ragnoroc's room, curses exploding after the crash. Ragnaroc shook his head, laughing silently at his ruder self. Lately, the rude Ragnaroc hadn't been cruel as much as extremely grumpy towards Crona, though any mention of that would result in rude Ragnaroc storming out to pummel Crona mercilessly. Ragnaroc sighed in relief as Crona slid into his seat just as Stein entered the classroom, Crona safe for the moment thanks to the rude Ragnaroc.

"Sorry I'm late. Today's lesson will be on..."


	4. Chapter 4 - Memories and an Old Meeting

**************************************************Chapter Four***********************************************************************  
 _Ragnaroc was in a constricted state of being; unable to speak, see or move. Needless to say, he was freaking out. He remembered a lot of pain and his young Maister yelling hysterically, then he had just… not been for a while. When he began being again, he almost wondered if he was in a coma, wishing that he wasn't quite so conscious. After what seemed like an eternity of inability to do anything, he felt himself moving through the air. Suddenly, Ragnaroc felt like he was being submerged into icy slime, thick gunk oozing over him. Then he was through, hitting very hard ground with a solid thunk, but he could see and hear again! Ragnaroc shot to his feet, his head whipping from side to side. He was in a fairly good-sized room, just the right temperature and furnished lavishly with comfortable furniture. A large screen took up the main area of the room, a button on the side with the word 'ON' inscribed beneath it. Ragnaroc approached the monitor warily, one hand tentatively reaching out to press the button. The screen flared to life, pictures flickering too fast to process, multiple voices blaring at once._

 _"Wake up, Crona. It's time to start your training-"_

 _'The fucking bitch melted me into this brat? What the-'_

 _Wh-what happened-"_

 _'I don't know how to deal with this-'_

 _"Shut the fuck up, you little-"_

 _Ragnaroc sank to the floor, hands pressed over his ears. "Stop it!"_

 _"-at the hell happened to my skin? It's all black and shiny-"_

 _'Why is Ragnaroc so mean now? I don't know how-'_

 _"Don't bother struggling,Crona -"_

 _"Hey! Will this hurt me too-"_

 _'What's going on? Wh-'_

 _"Please!" Ragnaroc howled, his ears throbbing from all of the noise. "Stop it, please!"_

 _'Hurts so bad-'_

 _"Don't, please… Not again-"_

 _"Crap… You damn bitch! Don't you dare-"_

 _"AGGHHH!"_

 _"AGHHHH!"_

 _'Pain…'_

 _'H-hurts so bad…'_

 _Ragnaroc crumpled against the wall, feeling blood trickle out of his ears. "P-p-please…"_

 _"You two aren't as strong as I thought you'd be… How disappointing."_

 _"Make it stop-"_

 _"Why should I? After all-"_

 _"Fuck! Not again- AGGGH!"_

 _Ragnaroc began to lose consciousness, hands slipping away from his ears. The voices started to get softer, the images on the screen slowing slightly. He concentrated on separating them, somehow sensing that if he didn't he would go through a very painful death. Gradually the images slowed down, the voices slowing to an understandable pace._

 _He staggered to his feet, a hand going to his aching head. Ragnaroc stumbled slightly as he walked to a chair, collapsing into the soft cushioning with a moan. "Well, that was fun." He spoke to no one in particular, still half out of it. A shrill howl of pain brought his attention back to the screen, the images there instantly sickening him._

 _Ragnaroc was apparently seeing the same scene from two different views; one looking up at a woman that Ragnaroc knew that he knew… what was her name? M…m…Madeline? No, that wasn't right. Mindy? No, that wasn't it either. Then it hit him, along with a thick current of dread. "Medusa."_

 _Medusa was looking back down at the first screen, gold eyes full of scientific curiosity. The second monitor showed both her and the very familiar form of a boy. "Crona!"_

 _Ragnaroc jumped from his seat, his hands slapping against the surface of the screen. "Oh man…" The toddler was wearing a dress, something that Ragnaroc would normally have been laughing his head off about, but now laughter was the farthest thing from his mind. "No-" Crona was strapped down to a blood spattered table, black ooze dripping slowly from a multitude of wounds... Medusa tilted her head, a slight frown pulling the edges of her lips downward._

 _"You're turning out to be quite the worthless Weapon, Ragnaroc. Heal your Maister!"_

 _Ragnaroc slammed his fists against the screen, tears trickling down his cheeks as she slashed another cut across Crona's stomach, the little boy whimpering in pain but unable to move. "Don't, please! I don't know how to-"_

 _"How the hell am I supposed to heal him?!" Ragnaroc snarl was harsh and ragged with pain, but he hadn't spoken, and he never cursed! Ragnaroc stepped back in confusion as Medusa answered the voice that sounded like his._

 _"Control the black blood, of course."_

 _"H-how do I do that, huh?" the voice that sounded like his gasped, agony in every syllable._

 _Medusa smiled, tapping the black stained knife against her chin. "You have to want Crona's wounds to heal. Otherwise, your own wounds will never seal either."_

 _"Fuck you," in the screen that showed both Medusa and Crona, a black ball rose into view, attached to an arm-like appendage. The ball shook itself at Medusa, the witch merely smirking and driving the blade into Crona's leg. Both Crona and the Ragnaroc voice screamed hoarsely, Ragnaroc's other voice cursing up a storm. "FINE! Just… stop!"_

 _Half of the monitor went black, heavy breathing sounding in Ragnaroc's room. Then the screen flashed back on, and the voice that both was and wasn't his moaned. "I can't. This little bastard is the reason that I'm even in this mess. Why would I ever want to help him? In fact, I don't even know why I'm still out here. Have fun killing your damn brat, Medusa." The same half of the screen went into static, a freaky figure dropping out of the ceiling to land on the floor with a sharp thud. It was an almost comical figure of a boy, with raven black shiny skin that almost looked like spandex, his hands and feet black balls without fingers or toes. A thick white X crossed over his face, the pupils of his bulging eyes small black X's._

 _"Who are you?" they asked each other in unison, replying, "I'm Ragnaroc." Both frowned. "No, I'm Ragnaroc!" Both were interrupted by a drawn-out agonized cry, Medusa's face furious as she stabbed down over and over. The shiny black figure crumpled to the floor, odd face contorted with pain._

 _After a minute, it straightened slightly, glaring inhospitably at Ragnaroc. "Why the fuck is there another me in here?" It glanced around, flinching as another yelp sounded, one ball hand going to its arm. "What happened to my room? Though I gotta admit, the movie on is pretty entertaining." It gasped out a chuckle as Crona let out a weak wet cough, Medusa finally having gotten tired of slashing her son. "Oh, there it is."_

 _Ragnaroc turned to see an open door leading into his old bedroom; goth-styled pictures hanging up next to posters of scantily-clad women, a pair of boxing gloves hanging by the laces on the head board of his bed, piles of dark colored clothing scattered untidily on the floor. "Whoa. Where'd that come from? I could have sworn there wasn't a door there before…" He walked towards the room, ignoring the thing that sounded like him as it warned him to stay the hell out of his room. As Ragnaroc went to pass through the door, the door slammed shut in his face, sending him reeling back a couple of steps. "What?"_

 _The weird black being giggled, the sound sending a chill up Ragnaroc's spine. "Told you, that's my room."_

 _"No, it's mine!"_

 _"Oh yeah? Prove it!"_

 _Ragnaroc scowled, thinking. "Well, behind the door there should be a chest of drawers, right?"_

 _"For that being your room, you don't sound so sure of yourself. But yeah, there is."_

 _"The third drawer has a fake back, where I keep all of my most prized memories."_

 _The figure stiffened, x eyes flicking up to him. "How the...?" Then it relaxed again, a small smirk on its face. "Oh… I get it now. You're in my head, some damn side effect of that… black blood. Of course you know what I do."_

 _Ragnaroc glared at the figure. "It seems a lot more likely that you're a figment of my imagination than the other way around. I mean, come on! Have you looked at yourself? You look like one of the things that I saw the first time I got drunk!"_

 _It stood slowly, staggering slightly as it walked towards him. "You know, I don't know what you are, but I do know that I'm going to enjoy this." Ragnaroc tipped his head in confusion, wondering what it was talking about, when it pulled back a black ball and socked him. The blow passed through his chest, but then there was a sizzle and bang, the two figures slamming into opposite walls. Ragnaroc sat up with a complaint on his lips, when memories began to slam into his head, sending him crashing to the floor._

 _Pain.  
Betrayal.  
Hate.  
Agony.  
Fear.  
'Crona did this.'  
'The little fuck!'  
'Why did this happen?'  
'My skin!'_

 _Ragnaroc looked at the figure's black skin, bile rising in his throat. "You really are me-Ragnaroc, I mean. Medusa… she did this to you…"_

 _The other Ragnaroc laughed bitterly as he poked his smooth obsidian flesh. "Yeah. When she ripped my skin off, I guess the black blood had to replace it. And this?" tapping the thick white x between his eyes, "This was her way to mess with her darling son, the fact that it irritates the hell out of me just an added bonus."_

 _Ragnaroc frowned. "Why are you so mad at Crona? He's our Maister and-"_

 _"-and I don't care! He's the reason that I-no, we, are stuck like this!" Ragnaroc decided to call the other Ragnaroc the 'rude' Ragnaroc, or just Rude, for lack of a better name. Rude waved his arms at the room around them. "We're stuck in the brat's head! And I'm guessing that you can't even get out like I can."_

 _"That doesn't matter! We should be trying to help him get away from that…woman. Look at what she did to him!" Ragnaroc's eyes widened as he remembered something._

 _"Wait, she said that you could help heal him."_

 _Rude Ragnaroc scoffed, getting to his feet and brushing past Ragnaroc. "Fuck him, and if you want to help the little bastard, fuck you too." Rude walked into his room, slamming the door behind him._

 _Ragnaroc ignored him, concentrating hard on Crona being whole again, no ugly slices or gashes streaking his skin. "Come onFraterculus, don't die on me here…"_

 _"Well, well, Ragnaroc. I thought that you were going to just let the boy die." Medusa's smug voice sounded in the room, her face appearing back on the half of the screen that wasn't buzzing with static. "So it appears that you still cling to some feelings for Crona after all… how interesting. In any case, remember this." She leaned over, gold eyes cold. "If you don't keep Crona working as my weapon, I will utterly destroy you. Make sure that he turns into the perfect tool for me to exact my plans, or what happened to your skin will seem like a kiss on the cheek compared to what I will make you go through."_

Ragnaroc sat straight up in bed gasping for breath, heart pounding in his chest. "Shit!"

A roar of laughter scared him further, making him twist to see who had laughed, still half asleep, only managing to fall out of his bed. "Nice, really." The voice was very amused, cracking back up again as Ragnaroc blearily rubbed his eyes, waking up enough to realize that the voice belonged to Rude,his alter ego sat on one of the chairs in the room, still laughing at him.

"Good afternoon to you too." Ragnaroc grumbled, pushing himself to his feet. "I really don't know what you find so funny about me falling out of bed."

"Well, while I do love slapstick humor, mostly I just think that your pathetic attempt at cursing is hilarious." Rude Ragnaroc snickered, x eyes staring at him. "I thought that you 'hate cursing, because it's a vulgar habit that only crass people use'." He cackled. "Ohhhh, perfect boy's getting vulgar! I love this! Do it again?"

Ragnaroc frowned at his other self as he sat down. "I don't like cursing, and I'm not sure why one popped out. It might be that you're starting to rub off on me."

Rude wiggled his eyebrows, twisting in his seat to lay with his legs over one of the armrests. "So, what prompted this sudden descent into 'crass'ness?"

Ragnaroc shifted, feeling uncomfortable. He wished that they were playing a game that he and Crona used to play; one would ask the other a question, the other either answering and asking a question in return or passing and getting asked another question. He definitely would have passed that question. "I was dreaming about the first time I met you in here."

Rude's chuckles cut off, the odd boy sitting back up in his chair properly. "Oh." He shuddered slightly, one ball shaped hand unconsciously reaching up to touch the large white X on his face, a nervous tic of his that Ragnaroc had noticed. "'Shit' doesn't even half cover that fucked up day."

"I originally only got flashes of what was happening to you guys, but when you tried to punch me…" He shrugged wearily.

"Yeah, I don't get how you got my memories, but I'm pretty sure that they were damn well worse than any punch that I might have given you. Though not too much worse, after all, I have muscles of steel, you know." Rude's voice went from an uncustomary softness to his usual brash tone, flexing his no-longer-existent muscles. Ragnaroc smirked, remembering the major tantrum that had followed the confiscation of his collection of eaten souls. Rude had gone on a nonstop cursing spree, smashing everything he could; which hadn't been too much considering the fact that the formerly towering buff man had shrunk back into a skinny kid. Fortunately, after about a week of sulking, he had begun to calm down, curse and abuse Crona less, and generally became a slightly nicer guy."So, what was the worst memory that I gave you that day?" Rude Ragnaroc studied him, x eyes curious.

"You probably don't want to know."

"Actually, I do." Rude's voice was earnest, another rarity. He leaned forward in his seat, arms resting on his knees. "P-please?" That word never EVER came out of Rude's mouth, so Ragnaroc just sat there, stunned for a moment. Then he sighed deeply and sagged into his chair, Rude smirking slightly; both knowing that Ragnaroc had just given up.

"Fine. The memory that I thought was the worst was when Medusa had you…'infect', Crona and yourself with the black blood." Ragnaroc skipped over the proceeding torture of Crona and Rude's forced exchange of his skin for the black blood.

Rude flinched, that period of time obviously still a raw memory. "Oh." He huffed out a humorless laugh. "I'm being real fucking articulate today, huh? Yeah, not my best day." Rude stood and walked back to his room in a daze, not even slamming the door. Ragnaroc sighed again, feeling bad for upsetting his companion.

"I told you that you probably didn't want to hear it."


	5. Chapter 5 - Bullies and Depression

************************************************Chapter Five*************************************************************

After his unsatisfying talk with Rude, Ragnaroc growled once in frustration before sighing and turning his attention back to the screen, having neglected to pay much attention to what the timid Maister was doing. Crona was just about to get out of class and head back to sit with Spirit some more, even though he was practically falling asleep on his feet. Ragnaroc nodded in approval as Crona's memory of sitting with Spirit after his lunch break slipped into his mind. "Fraterculus, you are one nice kid." The nickname flowed easily off of his tongue, making him suspect that it was something he had said a lot before, though he couldn't remember what it meant or why it seemed to fit Crona so well.

Crona walked into the hall, shoulders hunched miserably as kids pushed around him, the swell of Maisters and Weapons a mass of arms, hands, backpacks, and books. **'I really can't deal with this many kids!'** Ragnaroc heard Crona think, the tall boy slipping into the deserted music classroom. Crona sat down on a bench, deciding to rest while he waited for the halls to clear. He had just dropped off to sleep; the screen that showed what he saw black while the screen showing his thoughts was going through a good dream.

Crona and his friends were sitting out in the forest, enjoying a picnic made by Maka and Tsubaki. Suddenly his other friends decided to go play catch further on in the woods, leaving him and Maka alone. He was sitting there enjoying the silence, the warmth that Maka always seemed to exude making him feel happy and safe. So much so in fact that Crona spoke impulsively, his tongue acting of its own accord. "Hey, Maka?"

She turned to him, green eyes sparkling. "Yes?"

"I love you." The instant that the words left his lips Crona cringed and hung his head, waiting for a Maka-chop and a lecture on how all men were cheaters, even pitiful wimps like him. Instead he felt gloved fingers pushing his chin up, soft lips closing on his. Crona's eyes bugged out, his entire body going stiff. Maka pulled away, smiling in that kind way of hers.

"I love you too, Crona." She leaned back in, Crona squeaking in shock as she kissed him for a second time. The world stood still for the Maisters, Crona slowly relaxing and returning the kiss after a moment. Maka smiled into the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck…

Ragnaroc was torn between being touched and feeling embarrassed for watching this obviously personal moment. Rude on the other hand was looking torn between laughing or throwing up, the comical looking boy having come out of his room a minute ago. "Wow. That brat has some pathetic dreams about women. For one, his dream girl is flat girlie? How sad. For two, she's still got all her clothes on. Hey Crona," Rude shouted at the screen where Crona and Maka were still kissing. "If you're gonna just kiss, at least use some tongue, you dweeb! This is the closest to porn that I can watch right now, seeing as I don't get internet in your head and you turn into a tomato anytime I try to get you to look it up for me."

Ragnaroc looked at his alter ego, a mixture of disgust and amusement on his face. "You know that he's fifteen, right?"

"So?" Rude shrugged, plopping onto a chair. "Doesn't mean you can't…" he began making lewd gestures, Ragnaroc chuckling softly at his antics.

Turning his attention back to the screen, he saw that they were _still_ kissing. Crona had just gotten up the courage to put his arms around Maka when he was violently woken up, the screen showing what he saw flashing back to life.

Crona had been thrown to the floor, four kids standing over him. They were all older Maister and Weapon pairs, three boys and one girl, and were also unfortunately some of the nastiest bullies that Crona had been running into. The girl and one of the boys pulled him up, holding him up and in place.

"You killer. You shouldn't be here; no one wants you. Those so called friends of yours may be fooled by your pathetic little act of innocence, but we're not. Let's go." The last two words were directed at the other boy, who nodded and closed his eyes, changing into a long metal baton. The talker grabbed the Weapon, hefting him experimentally before smashing the end into Crona's stomach. Crona gasped in pain; the black blood only guarding him against things that broke the skin. The bullies had learned early on that as long as they only beat him, he was powerless to defend himself.

The talker smashed the baton against him a few more times before opting to use his fists.

CRACK…

A fist slammed into his face.

WHAM-WHAM-WHAM!

The boy cracked a flurry of punches into his stomach, pausing to wipe a bead of sweat off of his forehead. Crona coughed, feeling blood oozing out of the corner of his mouth. The boy sneered, running a finger through the slow-moving trail, showing the black-tipped digit to his friends. "He's not human, not with blood like this."

Inside Crona's mind, Rude was barely managing to keep from ripping out to kill the bullies, Ragnaroc just as angry if not more so. However, both knew that in the past when Rude came out the bullies would just increase the strength of their blows, making it more helpful to stay inside his mind and wait rather than coming out and aggravating the situation. Neither liked it; Ragnaroc's hands were bleeding from where his fingernails were digging into his skin and Rude was cursing blackly under his breath, x pupils rolling madly in their sockets, but they stayed put.

One of the other boys grinned savagely, teeth bared. "Who knows, maybe he's not a he…" The others laughed as Crona began to struggle pointlessly, not knowing what was coming next but being sure that he wouldn't like it. "What's wrong, thing? Are you scared?"

The first talker smirked. "You should be, you monster." He tapped the baton, which turned back into the fourth boy. "Hey, you wanna finally find out what gender this freak actually is?"

The Weapon nodded, cracking his knuckles eagerly. "Let's do it." The first boy took out a pocketknife, using it to slice through the stitches that ran down the front of Crona's shirt. As it fell down his shoulders, the assembled bullies gasped.

"Well, well. What are these, huh? Marks to let the Kishin envelop your mind? Well?" He poked one of the stripes on Crona's stomach hard, making Crona flinch. "In any case, it looks like you're male, if not masculine." The boy laughed at his own bad joke, the others joining in as he slammed an elbow into Crona's chest. Crona gagged and spat out another wad of black blood, the boy cursing and backhanding him as some of the ink black liquid landed on the boy's jeans.

"Doesn't matter. You know, the freak might just be flat-chested." The girl spoke up for the first time, her grip on his arm tightening painfully.

"That's right, that Maister… Maka, right? Well, Maka's flat as a board, but she's a girl." This boy leered suggestively, howling in laughter as Crona tensed in anger. "What's the matter, monster? You got your eye on her? I personally prefer girls with more of a figure." He moved his hands in the form of a figure glass, demonstrating what he was talking about. "Anyway, they're right; monster here might just be a flatty."

"Only one thing to do." The first speaker grabbed Crona's pants, yanking them and his underwear down. "Hmph. All right, you may be a boy, but you're mostly a monstrous freak." He nodded at the kids holding his arms, the two tying his wrists together with some twine. One of the boys shoved a sock into Crona's mouth, muffling his soft yelp of pain and fear. "Nothing will change that, no matter what the headmaster says. When your 'friends' see all of these," running the pocketknife over a few of the black slashes on Crona's torso, "maybe then they'll finally realize that all you are is a freak."

"In you go, freak." His attackers shoved him into the music room's baby grand piano, the lid slamming shut over him. Crona's breathing grew ragged, having developed a severe fear of the dark after being locked in a pitch black room by his mother for the better part of his young life.

"Have fun 'till tomorrow, you monster." Laughter accompanied the words, the door to the music room clicking shut. Crona was shaking now with a mix of fear, pain and adrenaline in the jet-black enclosed space, his bare body pressed uncomfortably against the cold hammers of the piano.

"Fuck." Rude disappeared through the door, the boy's view appearing on the screen. Rude pushed against the lid, cursing at Crona until the quivering boy helped, the top finally swinging up. Ragnaroc watched as Rude changed momentarily into his sword form, somehow managing to slice through the boy's bonds without Crona's help. Crona curled up into a shivering ball when he could move, removing the balled up sock from his mouth. "Come on, get up, you pathetic wuss! Up. UP Damn it, am I talking to myself or something? Get OUT!"

"R-Ragnaroc, why do I exist?" Crona's voice was so quiet that the fuming black figure almost missed it, still ranting at him to get the hell up. "I only ruin people's lives, no matter what I do."

"Crona! Don't get even more pathetic on me!" Rude spoke harshly, but his thoughts were worried, remembering the last time that Crona had talked like this.  
 _  
"How disappointing, " Medusa said coldly, frowning in disgust as she beheld the grim sight in front of her._

 _A man hung from chains attached to the walls, his head barely attached to his body. Blood was spattered everywhere, including on Crona's dress and face, the demon sword held in one fist. A glowing red ball of light hung in the air in front of the messy corpse, Rude shifting back from his sword form to the muscular torso of a man. He snatched the soul from midair, gulping it down greedily._

 _"What are you talking about? We killed the bastard, right? That's what you wanted us to do."_

 _"I wanted you to break him, not destroy him. Kyle had valuable information on Arachnophobia's actions, something that I was planning on utilizing. Now I have to find another Arachnophobia agent." Medusa frowned darkly, clenching one fist. "Crona, go to your room."_

 _"Yes, Lady Medusa." Crona nodded numbly, his feet plodding as he walked back into his cell. A moment later the door slammed shut, leaving the Weapon and Maister pair in utter darkness. Rude unconsciously shivered at the black nothingness around them, quickly deciding that it was far more preferable to take his stress out on his shivering companion rather than let his own fears overwhelm him._

 _"Damn it Crona!" Rude fumed, cracking a fist against his Maister's head. "You're supposed to remember things like that! Now we're stuck in here again, and she probably won't send in dinner… again. If I wasn't stuck with you, my life would be so much better!"_

 _"What?" Crona's voice quivered and cracked, the young boy starting to shake with silent tears._

 _"Hell yeah! I'm strong, I'm handsome, I'm powerful, there's not much that I couldn't do if I weren't loaded down with you. You're such a fucking pain in my ass, Crona."_

 _"Y-you're right." Rude stiffened, surprised. Then he grinned nastily, leaning on the crying boy._

 _"That's one of the smartest things that I've ever heard you say, twerp."_

 _"I just hurt everyone that I meet." Crona spoke in between sobs, his tone full of despair. "I hurt you, I hurt all the animals that Lady Medusa tells me to, I hurt the people that do bad things, I hurt the people who do good things, I hurt that man out there even worse than I needed to, and by doing that, I hurt Lady Medusa. But you know what the worst part is?"_

 _"You bitching to me about your sorry life?" Rude suggested helpfully, snickering as he gave Crona's pale violet hair a sharp yank._

 _"The worst part is that I'm starting to enjoy hurting them. Wh...what kind of person am I that I enjoy hurting others?" Crona's voice had gone dead, the gasping sobs that he was making sounding empty. "I'm a monster…" There was a sick sounding rip, Crona whimpering quietly._

 _Rude howled in pain, holding his stomach. "Wh-what the hell did you just do, Crona?" he gasped, agony sending white spots through his vision._

 _"I'm dealing with myself." Crona chuckled, the sound insane. "That's what you always told me to do, remember? Deal with my problems head on, instead of running away from them. I've been getting pretty good with it too, the only problem that I hadn't dealt with being me. But I've fixed that n-" Crona's mad speech was cut off as the boy gagged, Rude feeling his Maister's smaller body convulsing. Crona began to laugh wetly, the crazy giggles gargled slightly. "Good night, Crona sleeps tight, everyone will be safe tonight…"_

 _"Little idiot!" Rude snarled, feeling the boy begin to go limp. "Gave in to Raven's insanity…" He let himself slip back into the room in Crona's mind, landing easily and running over to the bed where the nicety-nice Ragnaroc slept. Rude ignored the shadow door that creaked open invitingly beside the one that led into his room, yelling, "Wake up, you son of a bitch!" The teen fell off of his bed, Rude grabbing the collar of his shirt and shaking him awake. "Brat's trying to kill us, and you're taking a damn nap?" The other Ragnaroc quickly caught on, his gaze turning horrified as he saw the weeping wound slashed across Rude's waist, closing his eyes and concentrating. Rude grimaced at the mad thoughts blaring into the room, slowly petering off as Crona fainted from the loss of blood. He then sighed in relief as the stabbing pain across his stomach subsided and disappeared, black blood healing the Maister and Weapon's injury._

 _"What did he do?" The other Ragnaroc asked, staggering to a nearby chair and collapsing on it, the teen's face white from the effort of directing the black blood. "Crona didn't use you, did he?"_

 _"You really think that I'd let that weak little twerp do this to me?" Rude snarled, punching a hole in the wall that quickly repaired itself. "Fucking asshole." He stormed through the door that appeared on the wall, stepping into the black ooze. Rude stretched his arms up, feeling them break through into the air, the rest of him following along after. Just as he had finished emerging from Crona's back, the door to their cell cracked open, light flooding the room._

 _"You're extremely lucky, Crona. I've found another Arachnophobia agent for you to question. If you do a good enough job, then I might just let you have dinner tonight-" Medusa broke off, seeing her son's unconscious form, Rude standing? over him. "My, my. What happened here, Ragnaroc? I believe that I told you that if you kill Crona, you die too."_

 _"Hey, I didn't do this, lady. Crona did this all by himself." Rude defended himself, crossing his arms huffily._

 _"Really?" Medusa's voice didn't sound convinced, but she shrugged. "All right, I'll play along. What brought on this little… 'suicide' attempt?"_

 _"I'm serious!" Rude caught sight of a dripping black metal knife dangling from Crona's limp fingers. "Look, he's still got the damn blade!"_

 _Medusa calmly strolled in, not appearing to notice as she stepped in the pool of Crona's blood, crouching next to his unmoving figure. "How interesting. Did he say anything about why he would kill himself?" She sounded just… interested, as though she was speaking of a puppy that had disobeyed her._

 _"Um… I guess. The brat was freaking out about hurting people; he said something about 'dealing with himself'."_

 _Medusa scowled, the most expression she had shown over the entire episode. "That was something you always used to tell him, if I'm not mistaken. It was getting a little nauseating. 'If you deal with your problems before they grow, then they'll be a lot easier to overcome.'" She straightened, flipping her hood up. "So, he's trying to 'fix' himself, hmm? I can't have that…"_

 _Rude shivered at her icy voice as her snakes wrapped tightly around Rude's arms, pinning them to his sides. "Make sure that he's never able to 'deal' with anything again, especially suicide, understand?"_

 _When Rude didn't respond, Medusa stepped up beside him and sweetly cupped his face in her hand. The snake tattoo coiled around her upper arm wriggled to life, slithering up to hiss in his face, huge fangs glistening dangerously. "Do you understand, Ragnaroc?"_

 _"Y-y-yeah, Lady Medusa…" Rude stuttered, frozen with fear. He had been bitten by this snake once before, both him and Crona left writhing in agony on the floor while Medusa watched in silent amusement. She had eventually given them an antidote, Crona whimpering about some white rat as she did so, but Rude had never forgotten how much pain the venom dripping down that snake's fangs could inflict._

 _"Good."_

Ragnaroc heard Rude sigh, the comical figure's thin shoulders sagging. "Hey, Crona. I'm only gonna say this once, so you'd better listen up and never tell anyone I said this." The Weapon hesitated a moment before continuing, his words blurted out in one of the most jerky sentances that Ragnaroc had ever heard. "There …are… a lot of people …that are… better off… because of you."

Crona jerked in surprise, his sad silver eyes glancing up at his companion. Inside his mind, Ragnaroc was having a similar reaction as he heard the 'rude' Ragnaroc talk.

"For one, there's that girl that you're so in love with; if you hadn't helped her, Giriko would have hacked her into little chunks. Then you almost died saving her again, standing up against your fucked up mom who you're still scared stiff of. Before that, you…" Rude scowled at the floor, one ball hand going to the back of his head. "You saved me, remember? Even though doing that basically made you Medusa's puppet." Crona flinched at his mother's name, hands rubbing his upper arms. "Do you really think that those kids you hang out with would stick around if they didn't like you? Keep coming back time after time if they only pitied you? People who pity others make excuses to stay as far away from the people they pity as possible."

Ragnaroc folded his arms, glaring at Crona. "So in other words, get your bare ass out of the damn piano and put your pants back on! You can feel just as sorry for yourself in your room as in here. Actually," knocking on Crona's head, "isn't there somewhere that you're supposed to be right now? Wouldn't it suck if Spirit's attackers got in and killed him because you were in here sulking?"

Crona nodded, pulling himself up with a whispered, "Thanks, Ragnaroc." After pulling his uniform back on, having to tuck the overlapping front of the shirt into his pants to keep from showing the school the black marks slashing up his torso, he walked to the hospital ward. Sitting down next to Spirit's bed, Crona stayed there long enough that he fell asleep, drool oozing down from his mouth. Stein walked in and halted as he saw the sleeping boy, Rude having leaned against the wall to keep an eye on both Spirit and Crona. Stein left for a minute, returning with a sheet which he draped over Crona, a soft smirk on his face.

The doctor then pulled up a chair on the other side of the bed and sat with Rude, the two almost enjoying the silence and calm of the moment. Ragnaroc smiled, happy that his tortured Maister was relaxed for this moment at least, once again dreaming of friends… Ragnaroc included this time.


	6. Chapter 6 - Insanity and an Odd Incident

*************************************Chapter Six****************************************************

About a week after Maka and the others had left Crona was sitting in his room, sewing the thick stitches back across his shirt; repairing the damages that the bullies had wrought on his uniform top. He had just finished and was pulling it on when a polite rap sounded on his door, Miss Marie peeking in a minute later. "Good morning Crona… Oh, dear!"

The startled gasp was due to the assembly of bruises spread over Crona's face, a motley of purples, blues and black. Crona flinched and brought a hand up to his face, briefly touching the painful mass of bruised skin. "I-I fell down the main staircase."

Miss Marie sounded concerned. "Did you go see Stein?"

Crona shook his head, wincing at the momentary headache the quick movement produced. "No, really I'll be fine. I'm just clumsy; always tripping over my own feet." He giggled, feeling a spurt of insanity run through him, leaving him light headed. "Wh-what did you want to talk to me about?"

Miss Marie frowned in confusion for a moment before her face lit up and she beamed at him. "Would you mind helping me get to my classroom? I've been trying to get there for the last half hour or so, and I know that your room isn't anywhere near it."

"Sure." Crona spoke softly, a hand rubbing his arm absently. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Alright, thank you!" The door clicked shut again, and Crona slumped into his chair. While he enjoyed talking to Miss Marie, he was still plagued with guilt over giving her one of Lady Medusa's snakes. Not to mention that he had been feeling stiff and very sensitive due to his beating a few days ago. Speaking of which… Crona lifted the bottom of his shirt, looking at the dark spots against his pale skin, the bruises splotched around the almost tattoo-like black slices. He sighed and let the fabric fall, getting to his feet with a stifled groan as his entire body complained. Another rush of madness ran through his body, but Crona ignored it as best that he could. He grabbed his school notebooks and headed out to where Miss Marie was starting to walk down the hall in the wrong direction.

"M-miss Marie, the class is th-that way."

"Oh, that's right." She smiled sheepishly and headed off down the right hall, Crona trotting along behind her and gently guiding her along the correct path. They quickly reached Miss Marie's office, Crona bidding her goodbye as he walked over to the medical room to check in on Spirit. When he got there, Spirit was actually awake for the first time, sitting up in his bed and talking with Stien.

"No, like I've been telling you for the last ten minutes, I don't remember who beat me up, so-" Spirit cut off, noticing Crona for the first time. "Damn, kid. Whose fists did you run into? You look about as bad as I do."

Stein's glasses caught the light, flashing a beam into Crona's eyes. "A-actually, I just fell down the stairs." Crona lied again, hiding yet another twinge of insanity. **Great, that was just what he needed right now, to be going crazy again on top of having to deal with the rest of his life.**

"Yeah, I'm sure that that's what happened to me, too." Spirit joked, winking at Crona cheerfully. His expression changed to one of dreamy worry. "Hey, do you know where my darling Maka is? You'd think that she'd look in on her old man." Spirit grimaced. "Well, not old…you know what I mean."

"She's looking into your attack." Stein answered him, Crona sighing in relief that he didn't have to talk too much to Maka's dad.

"My baby girl is worried about me?" Spirit asked hopefully, perking up at the very thought.

"Actually, Lord Death asked her to." Stein said, expression deadpan as Spirit wilted back into his pillow.

"MAKAAAA! Why don't you love meeeee?" he wailed, sounding heartbroken. "Wait, what do you mean, she's looking into my attack?"

"Lord Death sent them back to the place where you were found to see if their younger eyes could find anything that we couldn't." The stench of tobacco was strong as Stein lit up, taking a deep drag before huffing out a gray cloud.

Spirit gabbed the lapel of Stein's lab coat, yanking the doctor towards him. "Get her back here now! If whoever attacked me was able to defeat a grown Death Scythe, they shouldn't have too much trouble with my sweet little girl, no matter how tough she is!"

"Kid, Liz, Patty, Black Star, Tsubaki and Soul are with her, they should be fine."

"No, you have to get them back here NOW!" Spirit growled, trying to get up but only managing to fall out of the bed, grimacing in pain.

Crona stepped forward to help Stein pick Spirit up and place him back on the bed. "Thank you, Crona. Would you mind going and telling Lord Death that Spirit's up, and that I'll be coming by his office in a half an hour?"

"A-alright." Crona started on the journey to the headmaster's office, feet dragging as he walked. Someone accidentally bumped into him, their arm hitting one of his worst bruises. Crona hissed as pain and insanity clawed their way through him, hand in hand. "Raven, stop!" He staggered into the boy's restroom, turning the water on cold and sticking his head under the flow. When he had sufficiently cooled off, he straightened and turned to leave, happening to glance into the mirror and freezing in shock.

A thick darkness stood behind him, shaped into the vague figure of a teen. A wide grin cut out of the shadow's face, blank eyes staring at him. "Hello, Crona. Ready to answer some questions yet?"

Crona walked forward, spinning to see... nothing. The room was empty and brightly lit. He looked back into the mirror in time to see the shadow's hand reaching for him. He jumped to the side, avoiding the arm. "N-no, go away!"

Its grin widened, the crescent stretching across the blackness. "That's the first question that you've answered for a long time. I'm impressed." Crona paled, eyes darting to the door. "Go ahead, I can wait." The shadowy figure's smile turned sad, eyes closing momentarily. "You may not have turned into a second Kishin, but his insanity has infected you and made me stronger. I'll always be here to help you, Crona. Just let me know when you're ready to play."

Crona dashed for the door, slamming it shut behind him.

 **'Let me know when you're ready to play.'**

The phrase pounded through his mind again and again, the madness holding back for now. As Crona half-ran to Lord Death's office, the first time that he had met Raven running through his head.  
 _  
Crona sat in Ragnaroc's room, lying back on the older boy's black sheeted bed. He looked up at the ceiling, where a few posters of naked women had been tacked up, promptly sitting back up and wishing that he hadn't seen them. "Really, Ragnaroc?"_ _Toddler Crona hopped back off of the bed, walking over to a hamper in the corner._

 _The laundry bin was stuffed with black, gray and red clothes, a few magazines sticking out at odd angles. Crona dug around in the mound for a while before finding what he was looking for; a huge black hoodie with a silver dragon design on the back… Ragnaroc's favorite shirt. Crona pulled it on, the smell of deodorant and peppermint flooding his nose. Crona hugged himself, tears trickling down his cheeks as he breathed in the scents. "Mom- I mean Lady Medusa, said she can fix you; but all she's been doing is having me hurt people. If that's what it takes, then I don't really have a choice... though I know you always tell me to only hurt people in self defense."_

 _He pulled the hood over his head, the top flopping over his face._

 _"Do you want to play a game?"_

 _Crona pushed the hood up so that he could see, looking around the room for the owner of the voice. "Who's there?"_

 _"What game do you want to play?"_

 _"Um… There's a game that someone I know made up, could we play that?"_

 _"Sure! What are the rules?"_

 _"One person asks a question, then the other person can either answer or pass. If you answer, then you can ask the other person a question, but if you pass, then they can ask you a question. You can't ask the same question twice, and once twenty-five questions have been asked then the game is over." Crona held up a finger, his expression serious as he told the disembodied voice the rules of the game. "And the biggest rule is that you have to tell the truth; if you lie, you lose."_

 _"Sounds fun."_

 _"Yeah, it is. Do you wanna go first?"_

 _"Sure." Its grin widened. "It's too late, though. You just went first, and I answered… so that's twenty-four left to go. Are you happy?"_

 _"No. Twenty-three. Where are you?"_

 _"I'm in your shadow." Crona instantly glanced down with a gasp, but, to his disappointment, it looked exactly the same as usual. But the voice had to be telling the truth, it was against the rules to lie."Twenty-two. Why aren't you happy?"_

 _"I don't like hurting people, but I have to. Twenty-one. Why are you in my shadow?"_

 _"I don't know. Twenty. Would you like to not have to feel sad every time you hurt someone?"_

 _"Yes, and no. Nineteen. Are you always in my shadow?"_

 _"No. Eighteen. What do you mean, yes and no?"_

 _"Yes, I hate being sad all of the time, but no, Ragnaroc always says that feeling bad about hurting others is good. Seventeen. What's your name?"_

 _"You can call me Raven. Sixteen. Who's Ragnaroc?"_

 _"Pass. Fifteen."_

 _"Is this Ragnaroc's room?"_

 _"Yes. Fourteen. Why did you want to know if I didn't want to be sad about hurting people?"_

 _"Because, I can help protect your mind from any horror that you want me to, if you wanted me to. Thirteen. Is Ragnaroc the person who made up this game?"_

 _"Yes. Twelve. How would you do that?"_

 _"By melding with your shadow a little more firmly and becoming a part of your mind, taking all the scary stuff on myself instead of you having to accept it. Eleven. Do you care about Ragnaroc?"_

 _"Yes. Ten. Would you go away if I wanted you to?"_

 _"Yes. Nine. Is Ragnaroc in trouble?"_

 _"Yes. Eight. Are there any rules for what you want to do?"_

 _"Yes. Seven. Do you have to hurt others to help Ragnaroc?"_

 _"Yes. Six. What are the rules?"_

 _"Once you do let me into your head, you can't push me out without my consent. When you want me to leave, we'll play this game in your mind. Once the game has finished, I'll leave you alone. When you want me to come back and help you again, let me know that you want to play again. Five. Why do you have to hurt others to help Ragnaroc?"_

 _"Because Lady Medusa needs parts of them and their souls to fix Ragnaroc. Four. Why do you want to help me?"_

 _"Because I am part of your identity, and when you hurt, I hurt. Three. What's wrong with Ragnaroc?"_

 _"I-I hurt…pass. Two."_

 _"Would you do anything to help fix him?"_

 _"Yes. One. What do I have to do for you for you to help me?"_

 _"Nothing. All I want to do is help you, that's it. Last question. Do you want my help?"_

 _Crona hesitated, small hand pressed up against the black fabric of the hoodie. Then he squared his shoulders and nodded, silently apologizing to Ragnaroc. "Yes."_

 _"Go look in the mirror, please." Crona obeyed, gasping as he saw a black shape rise out of his shadow, a smile of light beaming out of its face. It reached an insubstantial shade hand out towards Crona, stopping a good foot away from him and then just standing there. "Take my hand, and you won't have to hurt any more over hurting others until you want to again." Crona reached a tentative hand out behind him, the figure not making any moves away or towards him. When their hands touched, Crona flinched as the figure almost seemed to be sucked into him, darkness soaking into his skin._

 _Crona turned to look around the room, but promptly lost consciousness. His vision went dark and the small boy barely noticed as his legs folded beneath him, his body flopping to the floor like a doll._

 _The next thing he knew, he was on a beach, soft waves lapping at the sand. A shadow copy of him sat next to him, admiring the view. "Beautiful, isn't it? Do you want to stay here and play for a while, or do you want to go back and get back to work?"_

 _"Where is this?"_

 _"In your mind. This is one of your most comforting memories, so I chose this place to be our play area."_

 _"I-I do have to get back." Crona said reluctantly, running a hand through the tiny grains of sand._

 _"Okay. I'm going to walk into you, so don't freak out." The shadow did just that, Crona shivering as a rush of euphoria flooded him._

 _A wide grin cracked across his face, a giggle escaping his lips as he stood up in Ragnaroc's room, walking out with a slight bounce to his step. Down the hall, he ran into Lady Medusa. "There you are. I have another soul that I need collected."_

 _"Okey dokey." Crona grinned wider, the prospect of sinking a blade into someone appealing. Medusa blinked in surprise, making Crona giggle again. "You look silly when you do that, Mom."_

 _Medusa scowled. "Vector Arrow!" A dark purple arrow pierced Crona's left arm, going straight through. "I told you to never call me that."_

 _"Sor-ry." Crona said, giggling at how his blood was running down the arrow. "My blood is red, like tomatoes!" He barely felt the sharp agony that usually accompanied being shish-ke-bobbed by his mother's vector arrows, the pain somehow translating into pleasure instead._

 _"Go." The arrow disappeared, vanishing from in his wound, and Crona stuck his finger in the hole it left, his smile growing as the pressure just increased his unexplainable high._

 _"My finger goes all the way through!"_

 _"GO!"_

 _Crona staggered into the room, feeling light headed with glee. A giant of a man was chained to the wall by his ankle, his fists the size of bowling balls. "Hello!"_

 _"Kid, get me the key over there!" the giant pleaded, pointing at a key set just outside of the man's reach on a table covered with various torturous devises._

 _"Nope!" Crona walked over to the table, picking up a long dagger before skipping towards the man. "I'm supposed to kill you, you know."_

 _"Look, kid. I don't fight little boys, only big ones." The giant looked amused as Crona continued forward, the amusement vanishing as Crona buried the blade into a muscle in his leg. The huge man fell to his hands and knees, Crona jumping onto his back and sinking the dagger behind the man's huge right shoulder blade._

 _After another hour or so of pained screams from the giant, cackling giggles from the demented boy, and the occasional unanswered plea for mercy, Crona raised the knife almost sadly to deliver the final blow. As the blade struck home, Crona looked at himself. His gray trousers were soaked in blood, crimson smearing his hands and face, but what temporarily shocked him out of his insanity was the scarlet that oozed from Ragnaroc's hoodie, the comfortingly familiar smell of peppermint and deodorant having been covered by the sickly copper stench of blood._

 _He crumpled to the floor again, falling onto the corpse of the giant man._

 _"I don't like this; I want you to leave me alone." Crona informed his shadowy companion, cringing at the sight of the dark red crimson droplets plopping onto the flawless golden grains of sand from his hoodie. Raven frowned, plopping onto the sandy shores._

 _"That's a lie. You were having just as much fun as I was, because I am you. If I was having fun, so were you. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean you can just ignore me."_

 _"I don't want to do that ever again!" Crona squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying desperately to ignore the tiniest portion of his mind that was agreeing wholeheartedly with the shadow. "Never again!" He was speaking half to Raven, and half to himself. Crona grimaced as he noticed his hands trembling at the thought of having to go back to the mind and gut-wrenching endless guilt over what his mother was having him do. He clenched his hands into tight fists, almost gagging at the sensation of sticky crimson liquid dripping from his fingers, but Raven had caught sight of Crona's hands just before he did so._

 _The shadow got to his feet, scowling. "LIER! You want it so much you're shaking. Not having to feel empathy for that man felt great! Admit it! If you do, I'll leave without us having to play the game this time."_

 _Crona hugged himself, whimpering as scarlet dripped from the sweatshirt as he did so. "I told you earlier that I hated feeling sad every time Lady Medusa needs a part of someone else and has me get it, but what we just did went from not feeling bad to being crazily happy about hurting him!"_

 _Raven sighed, its anger draining away. "Are you sure that you don't want my help any more right now?"_

 _"Yes! I don't ever want to see you again!"_

 _"Lier. But don't worry, I'll always be here when you need me, especially when you're in pain. Bye for now, Crona. Insanity awaits…" Raven walked into Crona's shadow, dissolving as it did so until there was nothing left of it._

 _Crona sat up, rubbing his head in pain and grimacing in disgust as he smeared more blood onto his already bloody forehead. "This was very well done, Crona. I'm impressed. In fact, I think that this should be the last soul that I need to fix Ragnaroc, so you two shall be reunited soon." Medusa was standing in the doorway, golden eyes crinkling as she smiled at him. "Aren't you happy?"_

 _Crona nodded, smiling in relief back up at her. "Thank you, Lady Medusa."_

 _She turned and left, the door closing behind her. When it had clicked shut, a voice whispered, "Let me know when you want to play, Crona."  
_  
Crona shook his head, banishing the memory as he walked under the guillotine arches of the hall leading to the headmaster's office. When he finally reached the tall mirror, he dialed Lord Death. "42-42-564, for when you want to knock on Death's door." Crona chanted the little rhyme Maka had taught him to remember the headmaster's number.

"Oh, hello Crona!" Lord Death greeted him cheerfully, waving one huge hand. "What's up?"

"Dr. Stein wanted me to tell you that Spirit is awake, and that he's coming to see you in a little while."

"Really? That's great news!" Death bounced slightly, his mask managing to look happy. "Thank you for giving it to me!" Crona bobbed his head in an awkward bow, eyes flickering up as Death continued. "That reminds me, Kid phoned in a little while ago, it seems that they haven't found anything at the scene, and are returning home now. They should be back here by sometime this evening."

Crona smiled softly, rubbing his arm. "That's good." His eyes bulged as he realized how that could have been taken. "I mean, it's good that they're coming back, not that they haven't found anything!"

"I understand. Would you mind telling Stein to bring me a few bags of that special tea he had last week? It's rather addicting stuff."

"S-sure."

"Thanks, Crona. See ya!" Death flashed a thumbs up at him as the screen cut out. Crona sighed, turning back around to deliver the second message. By the time that he had gotten there and told Stein, he was already ten minutes late for class.

"Hm. Looks like you're late. How about this; you look after Spirit for the rest of the day, and I'll sign the excuse forms for you. Sound good?" Stein asked, Crona nodding eagerly. Stein set three bags of tea on the table beside Spirit before going into the back room to dig up some excuse forms.

"Hey, kiddo." Crona looked over at Spirit, who was leaning up on one arm, running a hand through his red hair. Crona felt that something about him seemed off, but couldn't figure out what it was. "Could you go and get me a couple of aspirin from the cabinet?"

"S-sure."

Crona looked in the cabinet as directed, but couldn't find any aspirin. "Maybe Stein moved it into the other room."

Crona walked into the adjoining room, shuffling through the little bottles of pills, quickly finding the correct bottle. He walked back in just as Spirit was resealing the tea bags, jolting guiltily as Crona coughed. "Oh, hey! You found them! Thanks."

"Wh-what were you doing?"

"With Lord Death's tea? I was just making sure that Stein didn't put any laxatives in them. The last time he gave me a muffin, I was stuck in the bathroom for days, if you know what I mean." Spirit laughed loudly, eyes flickering to Crona's face. "So, can I have the aspirin now, please?"

"Oh, sorry." As Crona handed the bottle to the Death Scythe, he realized what seemed off about him. His eyes, normally hooded with guilt or anger, were light and happy. The other thing was that when Crona had come in, his irises had seemed to be glowing a golden white.

Crona shrugged it off, figuring it was just his imagination, sitting down in a chair opposite of Spirit's bed. Stein rushed out of the back room, forms in hand, only stopping to grab the bags of tea and tell both Crona and Spirit to stay put before dashing on down the hall.


	7. Chapter 7 - Nightmares and a Reunion

******************************Chapter Seven*****************************************

Crona walked down the corridor, tray of lunch for the bedridden Spirit in hand. When he got back into the medical ward, Lord Death was there, talking softly with Spirit. As Lord Death turned to wave at Crona, Spirit's eyes flashed golden white again, making it the fourth time that Crona had seen his eyes change color. "Hello Crona. What's happening?"

"I got Spirit some lunch." Crona replied, holding the tray up for inspection.

"Ooh, lime gelatin!" Lord Death exclaimed, bouncing over to prod the wobbly green mound.

"Hey, come on! Is nothing sacred anymore?" Spirit complained, weakly sitting up.

"Sorry." Lord Death said, though he didn't sound that sorry. Crona handed the tray to the Death Scythe, retreating back to his chair in the opposite corner. "Oh, I'm sorry Crona, but would you mind giving us a little privacy? There are a few things that I need to ask Spirit alone, if you don't mind."

"S-sure." Crona walked out of the room, looking back to see Spirit's eyes glowing yet again. That's the fifth time, now. He shook his head and headed back to his room to take a nap. Crona opened the door of his little haven, plopping onto his bed with a sigh of relief and exhaustion, falling asleep quickly.

Crona held Ragnaroc in his sword form, staring into the defiant yet terrified red eyes of the small black lizard. "Kill it…" The crisp command dripped from Lady Medusa's lips, her voice ice cold.

"Kill it…" Raven's voice, so similar to Crona's own, whispering in his mind. "It'll be fun, trust me!"

"Kill it…?" Crona half sighed, half giggled, staggering towards the baby dragon. Its mouth opened, a small ball of flame scorching his face. He frowned, silver eyes freezing over as he tilted his head, inspecting the dragon critically. "I wonder if you're anything like me?" Crona giggled madly, his long grin reappearing. "Probably not. I'm a very bad person, you know."

He raised Ragnaroc, feeling his Weapon's identical insane blood-lust, so strong that the sword was actually vibrating in anticipation against Crona's hands. "Good bye, Little One." The dragon stood on its hind legs, rearing back to blow more fire, and Crona struck. Ragnaroc pierced through its tough hide, sinking up to the hilt from the vicious attack.

Suddenly, the surroundings changed; Medusa faded into shadow, the dark halls of her castle shifting into the brightly lit living room of Maka's house. The baby dragon changed too, the rough black scales smoothing into a soft obsidian jacket, the fiery red eyes widening into emerald orbs that stared at Crona in a mix of pain, confusion, betrayal and sorrow. "C-Crona?" He looked down to see Ragnaroc penetrating her stomach, the tip coming out of her back.

Raven stood at his back, the shadow figure whispering into his ear. "Fun, isn't it? Finish her off, Crona!"

Crona grinned crazily, nodding. Maka stiffened in pain as he ripped Ragnaroc out of her torso before brutally slamming it back in, her body contorting in a desperate attempt to escape the agony. He smashed the hilt forward, digging the blade further and further as Maka gasped, tears falling down her cheeks. "Cro-Crona, wh- AAGH!" Crona had cut off her sentence with a cruel jab to her first wound, the girl howling as he did so.

Crona had shoved the blade into her as far as he could, Ragnaroc sticking firmly into the wall behind them. "Night, Maka!" he chirped cheerfully, wiggling the fingers of one hand at her as her figure sagged forward, green eyes going dull and blank. He laughed with Raven as her scarlet blood ran; down Ragnaroc and pooling around his hands before dripping to the floor, and trickling from her lips in a crimson streak.

Crona sat straight up in his bed, gasping for breath. "NO!" He shuddered and staggered into his bathroom, where he promptly threw up. When he came back out, face pale and tear-streaked, Crona grabbed his pillow and sank into the corner of his room. The pressure of the two walls pressed reassuringly against his back as he wept, shoulders heaving with the intensity of his gasping sobs.

"Do you want to play? I can-" Crona cut Raven off, red-rimmed eyes glaring hatefully at the shadow's form.

"Leave me alone." Crona's voice shook with fear and certainty, making Raven frown sadly.

"All I want to do is help-"

"No. Just leave me alone, NOW!" Crona snarled, slamming a fist into his shadow.

"As you wish." A solitary tear dripped from the figure's eye, then Raven slowly faded into Crona's regular shadow, leaving him alone in the room.

Crona shivered and curled up tighter, burying his face into his pillow as Ragnaroc pushed out of his back, leaning on his head. "Hey, Crona. Back in Mr. Corner, I see."

Crona scowled up at his companion, the stupid nickname that Ragnaroc had come up with for whatever corner Crona used to calm himself down never failing to irritate the young Maister.

"Stop calling it that."

"Or what, shrimp? You gonna boo-hoo some more?" Ragnaroc bopped Crona's head. "Stupid. If you're gonna snivel over every damn nightmare you have, then you'll be stuck between good old Mr. Corner and your bed for the rest of your life. I have nightmares too, sometimes, but you don't see me falling apart over them. Of course, I know that I can beat up anything that attacks me, while you're so pathetically wimpy that I guess it's a natural instinct to be scared of everything."

Crona sighed into the pillow, knowing that Ragnaroc was right; he really had to toughen up… but he just didn't know how to deal with that right now. "I'm just so scared that I might give in one day…"

Ragnaroc growled, his tiny fists pummeling Crona's back. "Idiot! You've had plenty of opportunities to give in to that asshole Raven before, but you haven't. Just because you had a nasty-wasty bad dream you think you're just gonna betray all of your friends? How many of your other nightmares have come true, huh? ZERO."  
Ragnaroc huffed impatiently. "If you're just going to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, I'm out of here." Crona winced as Ragnaroc flooded back into him, black blood quickly sealing up his ripped skin.

Crona sniffed deeply, taking a few breaths before getting to his feet. He washed the tears and snot off of his face, the cool liquid refreshing against his skin, then headed back towards the medical ward.

Crona's memory was a cruel thing. About the only things in it that stayed firm were the memories of the day that he had killed the black dragon, the first time that Medusa had ever looked truly proud of him, the first time that he had met Maka and Soul, andevery day since Maka had chosen to save him and become his friend; the last three the simultaneous best and worst days of his life. All of his other memories were either foggy or just… gone, a result of Lady Medusa's black magic meshing with Raven to turn him into her 'perfect weapon'. They would come and go; sometimes Crona could remember a lot of his horrible actions with vividly clear recollection, and then- poof! Just like that, they would slip out of his grasp, though he usually was very grateful for that. Crona stared at his feet as he plodded down the hall, one hand running up and down his arm. He really wished he couldn't remember that first night, though. After all, that was the one that truly started his career as Lady Medusa's killer, something that made him sick just to think about.  
 _  
"You little shit!" Ragnaroc growled, giving the five-year-old Crona yet another hard blow, the small boy having long ago crumpled into a heap on the floor. He was shaking from a mixture of pain and fear, both summoned up by the monstrous being that was currently beating him into submission for the… well, he had lost track of how many times that he had refused to kill the little black dragon. It was Ragnaroc's pet, the only other thing that the older boy had loved almost as much as Crona. He had often told Crona that the baby dragon was the other 'little one' in his life. The name had stuck, and, once Ragnaroc had helped him deal with his fear of the black-scaled lizard, they had all played together many times, the dragon now just as much his pet as Ragnaroc's._

 _Crona felt his hot tears puddle against his cheek, which was currently being pressed hard into the floor as this new Ragnaroc, the one who was mean and cruel and hurt him and scared him and didn't even care about the Little One, cracked a fist into his face over and over. "Just kill the stupid creature already! Who cares about the fucking lizard? I'm tired of being stuck in this damn room!"_

 _He had thought that once Lady Medusa had healed Ragnaroc that everything would go back to how it had been. Crona was sick at the thought of how many souls he had had to get for Lady Medusa, how many people he had been forced to slice up to get the parts she needed. He was so tired of hurting others, and Crona had been ecstatic when Lady Medusa had told him that the giant's pure blue soul had been the last thing that she needed to fix Ragnaroc. Finally, the constant pain and misery could end! Then he had made a horrible mistake, and this Ragnaroc had shown up. A few days later, Ragnaroc had somehow ended up in his blood and looked like something out of a nightmare; shiny black skin, bulging x pupils, and always seeming to be stuck halfway in Crona no matter how hard either boy struggled. The worst part was the huge white X that crisscrossed Ragnaroc's new face, a glaring reminder of why he couldn't complain or fight back too hard when Ragnaroc picked on or bullied him. Crona just lay there and took the blows, quietly whimpering as the punches got harder and harder. He was still happy to have this Ragnaroc, even with his tendency to give Crona a multitude of bruises, and had thanked Lady Medusa gratefully. Crona had started to head back to his old room, ready to get out of the frilled dress that she had been having him wear, when the door clicked shut in front of him. Lady Medusa had explained that since his guardian was no longer able to properly keep an eye on him, Crona would be staying under her care from then on._

 _About three months later, she had brought him into the room that Ragnaroc had tortured him in, Crona tensing until he had seen the familiar form of the Little One sitting on the floor. He had run over and hugged the dragon, the Little One nuzzling his neck in greeting. Then, Lady Medusa had told him to kill the Little One. When he had refused, she had thrown him in here, Crona frowning at the pitch black darkness. Lady Medusa had let him back out countless times, always telling him to kill the baby dragon, and sending him flying back into the dark room on a vector arrow when he wouldn't. She had muttered something to Ragnaroc a few visits ago, and ever since then he had been beating the snot {literally} out of Crona every time that Lady Medusa sent him back to his room, snarling at him about how he couldn't 'deal' with anything.  
_

 _"Admit it! You can't deal with this, can you. CAN YOU?" Crona yelped as Ragnaroc smashed a fist into his jaw._

 _"A-alright! I c-can't deal with this!"_

 _"That's right, you little fuck. Say it again!"_

 _Ragnaroc had been doing this a lot, forcing Crona to repeat over and over that he couldn't deal with this or that, only stopping beating the boy when he dutifully spoke the phrase._

 _Lady Medusa hadn't given him any food or water for however long he had been in here, one of the things that Ragnaroc was yelling at him about now. "I'm starving! Just get the hell over yourself and kill the damn thing. Maybe then Medusa will give us some food." Crona curled into a ball, trying to ignore the harsh pounding that smashed into his head and back as his own stomach gurgled painfully._

 _Raven had been popping in occasionally, Crona shaking his head every time the soft voice asked him if he wanted its help yet. The voice would sigh, then leave for a while longer, coming back whenever Crona was at his weakest. In other words… right after a violent beating from Ragnaroc or a cold lecture from Lady Medusa. Raven never pressed, acquiescing to Crona's wishes immediately, not once trying to bully or force him into meshing._

 _That was one of the things that made Crona nod when the soft question came again, only hesitating for a moment. Then the hardest blow that Ragnaroc had given yet cracked into his head, sending Crona into unconsciousness._

 _He was back on the beach, sitting next to the dark form of Raven. It was grinning happily, its crescent smile wide. "I'm so glad you finally decided to play! It didn't look very fun out there. Are- are you okay?"_

 _Crona nodded, looking at his shoes in embarrassment. Raven was the first one to ask that since Ragnaroc had gotten hurt. "Yeah. I just can't deal with how Ragnaroc has changed-" he cut himself off, scowling at the sand as he dug his fingers into his arms. The 'I can't deal with' phrase had begun to sneak into his sentences a lot lately, due to  
Ragnaroc's sudden love of hearing Crona use it. One of the worst ways that Ragnaroc had begun to force Crona into speaking the words was that when Lady Medusa would punish him for making a mistake in his schooling or training, Ragnaroc would wait until Crona yelped out that he couldn't deal with whatever wound Lady Medusa had inflicted on him before healing Crona._

 _Raven's smile dimmed, a sympathetic glimmer in its blank eyes. "You really hate what Lady Medusa did to Ragnaroc, don't you."_

 _Crona flinched. "She didn't do anything to him except heal him. All of what I'm going through right now is completely my own fault." Raven opened its mouth to say something else, but Crona hurried on. "Let's play tag!" Raven nodded, its grin brightening once more._

 _"Alright, you're It!"_

 _The two played for a long time, finally flopping back onto the sand._

 _"That was a lot of fun, wasn't it?"_

 _"Yeah!" Crona grinned, wiggling into the loose grains to make a Crona-shaped hole._

 _Raven stiffened, inasmuch as a shadowy figure could, blank eyes focused on something in the distance. "Aww… It's time for you to choose whether or not you want to stay here."_

 _Crona tilted his head curiously. "What would happen if I decided to stay here?"_

 _Raven smiled. "Then your body would just respond to whatever orders it is given."_

 _Crona flinched, remembering the command that he had been getting. "No, I have to go." He stood, brushing the sand off of his dress. "I wish that witches didn't wear dresses. This is humiliating!"_

 _Raven nodded in agreement, looking down at its own figure which exactly mirrored Crona's, dress and all. "I completely understand." Crona reached a hand out to touch Raven's, the two melding together flawlessly._

 _"Get up." Lady Medusa's voice was cold as her toe nudged Crona's torso._

 _Crona grinned, his smile demented as he got to his feet. He thought he heard Lady Medusa gasp slightly, which only made his smile widen. Feeling something trickle down his lip, he ran a hand over some slime under his nose, expecting to see snot when he peered at it. Instead, black ooze smeared his fingertips. "Did you know, my blood is black!" Crona informed his mother, giggling at her momentary flash of surprise. He felt Ragnaroc burst out of his back, turning to see his companion wearing an identically insane expression, his x eyes rolling around in their sockets before focusing on Lady Medusa._

 _They trotted into the other room, Crona wondering absently what color Lady Medusa's blood was. He was considering using Ragnaroc to find out, when his eyes fell on the baby dragon. "My blood is black, did you know?" he repeated, gaze fixed on the little black lizard. A giggle dropped from his lips as he tilted his head. "What color is yours?"  
_

 _Ragnaroc chuckled crazily, the Weapon shifting into his sword form after slurring, "Let's find out!" into Crona's ear._

 _"Sounds fun!" Raven agreed, the shade looking on with fascinated interest from Crona's shadow._

 _Crona nodded and raised the sword, his smile never wavering as the blow fell, the dragon's head dropping to the floor. Ignoring the growing puddle around its body, Crona lifted Ragnaroc's stained blade, peering at the liquid slowly running down the blade. "You have red blood, Little One!" Crona grinned happily as he glanced back towards his pet, expecting to see its red eyes shining with its usual curiosity. The sight of its corpse lying in an ever-growing pool of crimson struck through his madness, the shock making him faint._

 _Crona refused to answer any of Raven's twenty-five questions, passing each time until the shadow sighed in frustration and nodded. "Fine. I'm leaving, but you can always call me back, if you need to."_

 _Crona sat up, wondering why his face was all sticky. Wiping a hand across his eyes, he looked at his hand, only to yelp and scramble back as he realized that he had fallen into the Little One's puddle of blood. "N-no…"_

 _He rocked back and forth, trying not to look at the dragon's still form. "L-Little One…"_

 _"What happened?" Crona flinched and turned to see Lady Medusa standing in the door, gold slit eyes furrowed in confusion. "Why aren't you happier?" She smiled. "After all, you found out what color its blood is."_

 _"I don't care what color the Little One's blood is!" Crona wailed, tears rolling down his little cheeks. "I can't d-deal with killing!"_

 _"You just did."_

 _"N-no, Raven did!"_

 _Lady Medusa stiffened, golden eyes widening in sudden interest. "Raven?"_

 _"When we mush together, it makes me like hurting people and animals and I don't like it!" Crona moaned, blowing his nose loudly into his sleeve._

 _"Really? Do you think that there is any way for me to meet this… Raven? I'd really like to." Lady Medusa smiled earnestly, walking over to kneel next to him._

 _"I-I don't know… It's always in my shadow, or in our play spot…" Crona sniffled, looking at the floor._

 _"Your… play spot? Where's that?"_

 _"Raven said that it's in my head, but it looks just like the beach where Ragnaroc would take me."_

 _Lady Medusa chuckled, the velvety sound making Crona look up in surprise. Her face was split with one of the scariest smiles that the boy had ever seen, slit eyes filled with malicious glee. "Well, well. Let's see if I can bring Raven to the surface, shall we?" A black snake flickered out of the corner of her mouth, slithering down to the floor and running up Crona's back before he could warn her how horrible he was when Raven and he played. A second later he felt something slide into the back of his neck, stiffening in pain as agony spreading from that spot to fill his entire head, before he blacked out._

 _He was back on the beach, but everything was wrong. The sun was scorching hot, unlike the comforting warmth that it had been, the flat stretch of sand was littered with broken branches and sharp shards of shells instead of being the dunes of soft, glittering golden grains. The worst part, however, was the water. The cool blue waves of liquid had turned dark, black streaks of Lady Medusa's snakes wriggling around in the water. "Wh-what's going on?" Crona asked, knees shaking._

 _"I don't know…" Raven said, its voice uncertain. Crona saw with surprise that Raven was in his shadow instead of walking around in the dark form that it always took here. "This isn't right…"_

 _Crona flinched as a snake started to slither towards the two, slowly inching its way out of the water. He grabbed one of the discarded sticks, holding it towards the reptile threateningly. "St-stay away!" It ignored the warning, continuing on its path. Crona starting backing away, making it a few steps before he tripped over a large stone embedded in the sand. The stick flew out of his grasp, making a long score in the sand in front of him as it skidded away. Crona cringed as the snake slithered after him, not three feet away now, waiting for it to strike and make pain rush through his body…_

 _It stopped as it reached the line, hissing in frustration as it slithered beside the stripe in the sand. Crona watched in surprise as it had to go completely around the slash before continuing on towards him. He got to his feet and made a dash for the branch, managing to make a small circle around himself before the snake reached him. It spat, fury in every line of its being as the snake circled the continuous line, unable to pass. Crona sat, flinching as it lunged for him before dropping to the ground, still unable to cross the border. Raven huddled inside the circle as well, blank eyes fixed on the serpent. "This shouldn't be possible. I made this place for you, so that you could have a sort of… safe haven. This is just not right!"_

 _Crona touched the shadow, the two connecting but not melding. Both frowned. "Wh-why can't I go out?"_

 _"I d-don't know," Raven stuttered, looking flabbergasted. "Try again." Once again, they merely slid together instead of into each other, but this time, Crona could see what was going on…_

 _"Kill him." Lady Medusa ordered, pointing at a prisoner in her dungeons, the man pulling frantically against his chains._

 _"Yes, Lady Medusa." Crona replied, voice monotone as he stepped forward, Ragnaroc in hand. One slice later, the man no longer struggled._

 _"How interesting." Medusa sounded amused. "I wonder what will happen when my lovely manages to catch up with the boy's mind."_

 _Crona yanked back, falling to the sand. "NO!" Raven yelled, a hand reaching towards him, and Crona noticed with horror that he had erased a portion of the line. He grabbed for the stick, but it was too late. The snake slid into their safe spot, eyeing them momentarily before sinking its fangs into Crona's side. He fell to the ground, absently noting that he and Raven were finally melding as he convulsed, the snake wrapping its coils around both of them._

 _"Wh-what?" Crona asked, blinking in confusion. He could have sworn that he was dying in his mind, but here he was in Lady Medusa's dungeon, a bloody Ragnaroc in one hand with no recollection of how he had gotten there.  
_

 _"Well, well. How nice of you to join us." Lady Medusa said, smirking as Crona flinched back against the wall. He was surrounded by people hanging from the walls by chains, all of them cursing and howling in pain.  
_

 _"I- I can't deal with this many people!" Crona yelped, hands over his ears to block out the sound. "I can't deal with this much noise!"  
_

 _Lady Medusa's voice came from right beside his ear, a smile in her voice as she spoke. "There is a very simple solution. Kill them. That way you don't have to deal with them or their noise."  
_

 _Crona giggled nervously, one hand reaching over to grab his other arm. "Y-yeah, that makes sense." He raised Ragnaroc, feeling the sword eagerly awaiting an order. It seemed like when they were fighting was the only time that Ragnaroc was semi-obedient to his wishes anymore. "Ragnaroc, Scream Resonance."  
_

 _The Weapon shrieked at an extremely high pitch, the sound grating against Crona's ears. He only managed to last a few minutes before his scream of pain added the extra bit of power to the attack that it needed, crimson spurting from the prisoners' ears, eyes and mouths. Ragnaroc finally quieted, the eerie mouth dissolving back into the blade as Crona swung, blood raining down everywhere. When the last person had been killed, he looked up at Lady Medusa, an insane smile on his face. "It's all quiet now." His smile faded quickly, though mad giggles still bubbled up from inside him. "I can't deal with how quiet it is…"  
_

 _Medusa smiled, making a come-hither gesture at him. "While I'm curious just how long your mind can tolerate staying like this, I suppose that a bit of caution and patience would be wise." Crona and Ragnaroc laughed manically as agony ripped through their minds, the snake yanking itself out of Crona's head.  
_

 _Crona and Raven tore themselves apart, the beach still depressingly wrong around them. Crona shook, terror making his stomach sink. "This is bad…"  
_

 _Raven looked at something beyond Crona and blanched. "No kidding."  
_

 _Crona turned and saw that the waves had disappeared, the water simply… gone. Instead, hot sand stretched out around them as far as he could see. Raven looked at Crona a moment before sighing. "Since you didn't invite me into your mind, our normal rules don't apply. I guess I'll see you around, Crona."  
_

 _Crona sat up on the floor, Lady Medusa looking like the cat who ate the canary. Crona had always hated that saying, loving both cats and canaries, but in this case…  
_

 _"You may go to your room, Crona."  
_

 _"Thank you, Lady Medusa."_

Crona was still lost in the horror of that day when he distractedly walked in the door of the medical ward, absently seeing that Lord Death had left, Spirit sitting alone in the room. "Oh, hey kiddo. I was wondering where you had run off to."

"S-sorry, I went back to my room." Crona replied quietly, pulling his chair into the darkest corner of the room before sitting down. He sighed, shuddering as he wished that he could banish his memories as easily and effectively as he could Raven.

"You okay?" Spirit looked concerned, propping himself up on his elbows to see Crona better.

"I'm f-fine." Crona mentally winced as his voice broke, Spirit's eyes narrowing as it did so but didn'tpush the point.

"If you say so. Hey, do you know when Maka is going to be back?"

"Lord Death said that they should be here sometime today."

Spirit's eyes went soft and dreamy, plopping back onto his pillow with a sigh. "My darling Maka, please hurry back to your loving Papa!"

Crona smiled at the silly Death Scythe, knowing that if Maka were actually here, she would probably be fuming over his smotheringly loving attitude or leaving in a huff.

"Why Lord Death sent her out,I don't know. It seems like sending a team of highly skilled adults would be a much better situation." As Spirit spoke, his eyes flashed golden-white yet again.

"Why do your eyes change color?" Crona blurted, curiosity getting the better of him. Spirit smiled in confusion, one hand reaching up to touch an eye.

"As far as I know, they don't." Spirit gave him a patronizing glance. "You must be tired, huh?"

"I-I guess," Crona muttered, knowing that he wasn't imagining things, but not having enough energy to argue the point. Stein strode through the door, a dark frown on his face.

"This is bad…" he muttered, rooting around in various cabinets and drawers, picking up tools and looking them over before tossing them back. "What to do, what to do, what to do." Stein turned and jumped slightly, apparently just noticing the room's other occupants. "Oh, that's right. Hello."

"What's going on?" Spirit asked, grimacing as he swung his legs over the side of his bed.

"Stay in bed, you haven't healed enough to be up yet. Lord Death isn't feeling well, nothing too bad, but it is odd. This is the first time in over four or five decades that he's been ill, since Shinigami have a naturally strong defense against illness that only grows as they age." Stein pulled out a stethoscope, tapping the ear buds before pulling it over his head and slamming the drawer shut.

"Lord Death is sick?" Spirit asked, Crona noticing his eyes flashing again. He thought about asking Stein about it, but the doctor spoke before he could.

"Like I said, it isn't that serious. He has a sore throat, that's all." Stein picked up a bottle of pills, glancing at the label before tapping a few of the capsules into a small bag and replacing the container. "I have to go. Crona, don't let Spirit get out of bed."

Stein was back out the door before Crona could protest, though he probably wouldn't have even if Stein had stuck around. "That's weird, Lord Death getting sick out of the blue like this," Crona said, thinking out loud.

"Yeah, it is. Hey, kiddo, you can take the rest of the day off if you'd like. Keep an eye out for Maka for me."

"But Dr. Stein-"

"Stein's a worry wart. After all, it's not like I can do anything. Just because I'm stuck in here doesn't mean that you should be." Ragnaroc pushed his head out of Crona's back to add his two cents.

"Yeah, sounds good to me! Let's go out to town and get some more candy."

"B-but-"

"Shut up and roll with it, idiot." Ragnaroc hissed in his ear, loudly commenting on what a nicety-nice shmuck Crona was.

"All right, all right!" Crona said, buckling as usual under his Weapon's pressuring. "Fine."

"Yes!" Ragnaroc exulted, pumping his fist. Spirit smiled and waved at the two as they left, Crona plodding towards the end of the hall and turning the corner. Suddenly, Ragnaroc pounded on his head, exasperation in his voice as he growled, "Hey, stupid. Aren't you even the slightest bit curious why Spirit was so eager to get us out of there?"

"But I thought that you wanted to-"

"Moron. I couldn't really go and say, 'Hey, Crona, let's go and hide in the hall so we can spy on Spirit', now could I?" Ragnaroc shook his head in disapproval. "Anyway, let's head back."

Crona nodded and padded back around to the medical ward's door, Ragnaroc poking one of his bulging eyes up to peek through the window, promptly ducking back down. "I thought Spirit was stuck in his bed!" Ragnaroc muttered, leaning on Crona's head.

"He is." Crona shifted to get in a more comfortable position as Ragnaroc looked back into the room again. "You saw him, he could barely sit up."

"Well, he healed really fast, 'cause he's standing on the other end of the room now."

Crona frowned and cautiously looked in himself. Sure enough, Spirit was on his feet, digging through the shelf of medications. He glanced towards the door; Crona and Ragnaroc ducking back down as he did so, their hearts pounded in their chests. "Fuck. I never would have taken Maka's dad for a pill junkie." Ragnaroc commented quietly, x eyes surprised.

Crona risked another quick peek, and what he saw made no sense; Spirit had pulled a bottle off of the shelf, dumping the pills down the drain before replacing them with a small bag of capsules, throwing the package into the trash as he re-screwed the cap and set the container back onto the rack.

"What the hell?" Ragnaroc breathed, then gasped slightly as Spirit swung to look at the window. Both boys held their breath, backs pressed up against the door as they waited to see if they had been discovered. However, when Ragnaroc finally looked back into the room, Spirit had returned to his bed. "Let's get out of here!"

Crona and Ragnaroc eventually did make a quick run into town, Crona buying a bag of assorted mints for his bossy companion. Ragnaroc ripped the small sack open as they got back to the school, unable to wait any longer. Popping a candy into his mouth, Ragnaroc let out a soft hum of pleasure. "Damn, that tastes good…" he sighed. Crona walked back to the hospital room, Spirit waving cheerfully as they sat down.

"Enjoy your little outing?"

Crona nodded, rubbing his arm uncomfortably as his eyes flicked to the shelf of pills, seeing the bottle that Spirit had switched out. It seemed familiar for some reason, but Crona couldn't quite remember why. Ragnaroc was still out of it, his torso draped over Crona's head as he munched through his new bag of sweets. The door opened, breaking the semi-awkward silence. Maka, Soul and Tsubaki stepped in, Maka cringing at the immediate crash as Spirit fell out of his bed. "MAKA! My little baby girl's back, and she came to see me!" Crona could almost see hearts floating around his head as the Death Scythe swooned happily.

Spirit's face fell as Maka ignored him, addressing Crona. "Hi."

"H-hey."

"What's wrong with Ragnaroc?" Tsubaki asked, Soul walking over to poke the limp figure.

"Sugar is awesome!" Ragnaroc slurred, one ball of a fist waving momentarily in the air before falling to bounce against Crona's face.

"Sorry about him." Crona apologized, flushing as Ragnaroc winked crudely at Tsubaki, bulging eyes slowly raking over her form with undoubtedly indecent thoughts. "S-sometimes sugar does this to him, b-but it should wear off soon."

Maka frowned at Ragnaroc, her gaze softening as her eyes met Crona's. Suddenly her emerald eyes filled with horrified worry, Crona flinching in surprise at the change in her mood. "Wh-what's wrong?"

A gloved hand ran gently over his cheek, skirting around the still-healing bruises. Crona flinched again as he remembered what his face looked like, Tsubaki's eyes widening as she stepped nearer. Crona realized that he was sitting mostly in shadow, the three newcomers not having been able to see his injuries until they had gotten up close. "Crona, what happened?" Maka asked, her soul wave length brushing against his, the presence warm and comforting against his soul.

"I f-fell down the stairs." Crona looked down, refusing to let them know how weak he was without them around to protect him. "Clumsy me." He chuckled lightly, silver eyes darting here and there as he spoke.

"That seems a little severe for just falling down stairs, and I should know." Tsubaki said, her concerned look turning into a tolerant smile. "Black Star's fallen down more staircases than I really care to remember." She chuckled lightly. "Actually, Black Star doesn't fall down, he throws himself down them."

Crona felt Maka study him for a minute, leaning down to whisper, "I want to talk with you later," before briskly changing the subject with a barely visible grimace. "So, how are you doing, Papa?"

Spirit immediately perked up from where he had been sulking moodily on his bed, Soul having helped the older scythe back up off the floor. "Much better now that you're back, little woogums!"

Maka's eye twitched, her hands balling into fists. "Don't call me that!"

"Why not? I always called you that when you were just a little baby, so cute-"

"PAPA!"


	8. Chapter 8 - Dangerous Games and a Lie

Chapter Eight  
After another half hour or so of feeling uncomfortable and extremely happy at the same time as Maka yelled at Spirit, the Death Scythe only managing to get her even angrier as he gooily cooed over her while the others stood back and chuckled quietly at the spectacle, Black Star, Kid, Liz and Patty walked in. Or rather, Kid strode in, Liz walked in, Patty skipped in, and Black Star threw the door open with a triumphant cry of, "I am the greatest ninja assassin in the world! I follow the assassin's rules, perfectly, of course. Someone as awesome as me couldn't possibly do anything less than perfectly, it just wouldn't-"

"Black Star, we're in the medical room. Would you mind keeping it down a little?" Nygus's calm voice cut through Black Star's lecture on how amazing he was, the bandage-wrapped nurse peering in. She had gone with the other kids on their little 'field trip', which was why Stein had been acting as the school doctor.

"Sorry," Tsubaki offered, smiling sheepishly at the nurse. Nygus smiled back, or at least the bandages over her mouth crinkled upward suggesting that she had.

"Don't worry about it."

A little while later, the kids decided to go out and play a little basketball before it got dark out. As they were about to head out, Stein walked in, eyes fixed on his clipboard. "Hi, Professor Stein." Maka said, cheerfully greeting the mad scientist, who merely waved an absent-minded hand at her. He walked over to the cabinet to grab a bottle of pills and went back out, Crona seeing the bottle as Stein passed him. He flinched, silver eyes widening in shock as he realized that it was the same one that Spirit had switched the kids strolled out to start their game, Crona noted uncomfortably that Spirit's eyes were fixed on him, eyes narrow.

Crona fretted through most of the first game, worrying about what to do. Unfortunately, that meant that his concentration was next to non-existent, Black Star and Patty literally running him into the ground several times as the two spastoids fought to keep control of the ball. "Ow."

He got his head into the present by their second game, Ragnaroc even coming out to participate. That started a small argument as to whether Ragnaroc would be considered another player or not, Crona finally bringing up the point that Ragnaroc couldn't really hold the ball without fingers very easily. Of course, Ragnaroc socked him in the head and went back into his back in a huff, but his companion eventually came back out to shout coarse insults at both teams, Crona included.

Crona was always amazed that a simple game with his friends would take most of his training with Medusa to survive, but this game was even more interesting than usual. Soul had gotten tired of Kid's constant symmetry obsession, telling him that if he didn't get his head out of the clouds {for some reason, they had decided to line up symmetrically at that moment} and back into the game, he was going to Manifest on him. Kid had just grinned, Liz and Patty Manifesting into their gun forms. Black Star, feeling left out, had had Tsubaki Manifest as well, using her chain to knock everyone off of their feet, then crowing at the top of his lungs about what an amazing star he was.

After that, the game had turned into sort of a free for all, with Crona, Ragnaroc, Kid, Liz and Patty on one team, Maka, Soul, Tsubaki and Black Star on the other, both teams still technically playing with a basketball on a basketball court, but just about anything seemed to be legal now. Kid slid to his knees, shooting three bursts of his soul wave length at Maka, the blonde easily dodging them as she ran towards the post with the ball. Black Star and Crona were dueling with their swords, Tsubaki in her Enchanted Sword mode, Black Star's face riddled with stripes as he lunged forward. Crona deflected the blow, managing to swing a leg around in a weak attempt to trip Maka as she went for the goal, surprise flickering across his face as it actually worked. Maka flipped as she went down, managing to not actually hit the ground as the ball soared through the air, Kid tossing his Weapons up after it. As they began to fall, Liz Manifested back into her human form, grabbing the ball and tossing it to Patty.

Black Star chased after the girl, Tsubaki switching into her chain weapon mode. Black Star threw one of the blades, the end wrapping around Patty's legs. "No one is a greater star than Black Star!" As the spastic girl went down, she tossed the ball to Crona, who promptly froze.

"Idiot! Go for a slam dunk!" Ragnaroc growled, lips protruding from the black blade. Crona unfroze as Maka brought Soul around in a wide sweep, automatically blocking the strike with Ragnaroc as he tried to figure out what to do next, feeling uncomfortable fighting without the extra support that his normal grip on his arm supplied, the hand that usually held his arm holding the ball. He frowned and tossed the ball into the air as hard as he could, attacking back in earnest now. Swing to the right, jab straight ahead, block the scythe blade, jump over Maka's leg sweep, duck left, duck right, duck left again, flip backwards to get a little breathing room… "Hey, Crona!The ball!" Crona's silver eyes flicked up to see the basketball returning to earth and used Ragnaroc sort of like a baseball bat, smashing the flat of the blade into the side of the ball. It sped off, somehow managing to go straight through the hoop on the other end of the court.

"Well done, Crona!" Kid called, still busy keeping Black Star and Tsubaki at bay.

"That was great, Crona!" Maka grinned, her emerald eyes sparkling.

"Heads…UP!" Black Star roared, punching the ball towards her with a blast of his soul wave length. It sped past Maka and Crona, making a slight whistling sound as it flew.

POW!

The ball exploded on impact with the corner of a metal picnic table nearby, the pieces of orange rubber going everywhere. "BLACK STAR!" the shout was collective from Maka, Soul, Kid and Liz, Patty off poking a particularly large hunk of the basketball while Tsubaki shook her head and Crona tried not to pass out from the shock of the sudden, very loud noise.

"Sorry, I guess my soul wave length is just too amazingly powerful, huh?"

Without a ball, the game was pretty much over, Crona and Maka staying behind to pick up the pieces of the ball as the others scattered. "See you back at the house?" Soul asked, leaning against the post of one of the hoops.

"Sure."

When Soul had left, Crona and Maka were left alone in the small courtyard. He plucked a small strip of black rubber out of a bush, very aware of Maka next to him as she silently stacked up a pile of rubber. "Hey, Crona. Thank you for keeping an eye on my dad for me."Crona looked over at her, her gloved fingers pushing the bits and pieces around.

"S-sure."

She turned, worry clear in her green eyes. "Now. I want you to tell me what actually happened to your face. I've seen people fall down staircases and break bones, I've been pushed down staircases and have come out of it feeling black and blue all over, but there is no way for a staircase to beat you up that badly without broken bones." Maka grabbed his wrist, large eyes pleading. "I don't know why you feel that you have to lie to me, but you can tell me anything. Please..."

Crona looked at the ground beside her, unable to meet Maka's strong gaze. "I- I…"

Ragnaroc burst out of his back, leaning on Crona's head. "Hey, flat stuff. You remember the last time he lied to you, right?" Crona's companion laughed evilly as he sucked back into Crona's blood, leaving Maka confused and Crona shocked.

"The last time that you lied to me was when Medusa was using you to spy on the Academy…" Maka said, her grip tightening around Crona's wrist. "Please, tell me nothing like that's going on."

"No! No, of course not!" Crona yelped, waving his free hand wildly. "L-Lady Medusa's dead, you know that!"

"Then why are you not telling me the truth?"

Crona frowned at the ground, wishing that it would swallow him up. "…"

"Professor Stein!" the shout startled both Maisters, coming from Sid. "PROFESSOR STEIN!" The huge blue zombie jogged up to them. "Have either of you seen Stein?"

"Not for about a half hour." Maka replied, shrugging. Sid scowled, hands clenching into fists.

"Damn. That's about the last time I saw him too." He headed off, waving a large hand back at them. "Well, if you do see Stein, tell him that Lord Death is only getting worse."

Maka paled. "What do you think that that meant?"

"L-Lord Death has been sick all day." Crona said, rubbing his arm as the problem about Spirit popped back into his head. "I- I think that Sp-Spirit might have something to do with it…"

She scowled at him, making Crona cower back. "You think that my dad, who is still stuck in his bed by the way, somehow got Lord Death sick?"

Crona nodded. "Y-yeah."

Maka abruptly stood, picking up the pile of rubber scraps. "Look, Crona. If you're going to start lying to me, don't start off by making up wild stories about Spirit. When you decide to start telling me the truth, you know where I'll be."

Crona stretched a hand out after her, whispering, "Maka…"

"Nice going, genius!" Ragnaroc snarled, bopping Crona. "I went and gave you the perfect excuse to go and blurt out your whole bullying problem, and instead you managed to get her ticked off at you for lying to her! And yeah, bringing up the whole your-dad-is-secretly-conspiring-to-get-the-shinigami-headmaster-sick thing after lying to her is not the brightest idea."

Crona curled into a ball, feeling a tear trickle down his cheek. "What do I do? I don't know how to deal with Maka being mad at me…"

He heard Ragnaroc sigh, a ball fist touching his shoulder. "I noticed that you were running through one of your exercises out on the courts earlier, that seemed to keep you calm." Ragnaroc popped him on the head briskly. "Get up, we're training." When Crona made no move to…well, move, Ragnaroc whacked him again, harder. "Did I sound like I was asking? GET YOUR ASS UP, CRONA!"

Crona got to his feet, closing his eyes and focusing on the instructions being yelled at him, his body going through the motions. "Slash to the left, duck, flip back, stab forward, block a high blow, twist and yank, sweep…"

 _"_ _All right, Crona. Today you'll be training on how to defend yourself with Ragnaroc. I will give you a set of instructions for the day, a repeating drill that you will do until you can do it without my having to list the moves. Your opponents will be my lovely snakes and vector arrows. If you have not memorized this drill by five this evening, you will not be receiving dinner. Understood?"_

 _"_ _Yes, Lady Medusa." Crona walked forward, wincing as he summoned Ragnaroc, the pop of skin as the sword slid out of his wrist still shocking to the boy._

 _"_ _Step to the left." Crona took a step to the left, yelping as a vector plate threw him into the point of a snake. "That was your right!"_

 _"_ _Stupid!" Ragnaroc spat, large lips curling in disgust before sinking back into the blade.  
_

 _"_ _Sorry," Crona apologized, walking back to his starting point._

 _"_ _Step to the left." Crona did so. "Block a high blow on your right." Crona swung Ragnaroc up, the metal clanging against the side of a snake._

 _He had managed to memorize the entire thirty-five move drill by that evening, earning him and his Weapon supper, though Ragnaroc ate most of both. The next morning, she had him going through it alone, the speed picking up with each repetition._

 _Sweep leg to the right, block snake strike at right side, jump over vector plate, jump over vector plate, duck under wide snake strike, step left, jump forward, flip to the left, jab twice… Crona felt his worries and stress fade away as he concentrated. Spin and block, brace the right arm with the left and block overhead, turn the block into a wide sweeping attack, step forward, kneel and thrust, somersault forward, strike and rise, dodge left, dodge right, jab…_

 _By the end of the week, Crona had the drill down pat and could follow along at lightning fast speed. The next day, Medusa changed his instructions. "You're going to try and make it through a maze that I've set up. You're going to need to move fast to keep from being hurt, since I've riddled the path with snakes and vector plates, along with more traditional traps. You have until this evening to get to the center, collect the item inside, and get back out." Her gold eyes studied him for a moment before narrowing. "Well? What are you waiting for?"_

 _Crona nervously approached the walls, yelping as a snake shot out of the shadows, barely managing to slice it in half before it took half of his face off. By the time that night fell, Crona was bruised, dirty, covered in black blood, very frustrated and very hungry. He had been stabbed seven times, cursed at by Ragnaroc one hundred and sixty two times, bitten twenty seven times, Vector Plated back to the start fifty three times, had almost died from her 'more traditional' traps thirty one times, {the traps mostly consisted of; covered pits with spikes at the bottoms, axes that swung out of the walls at shoulder level, hidden archers that he had to hunt down to keep them from shooting him, and buried capsules that released a very potent nerve potion when he accidently stepped on them} before one of Medusa's two special snakes 'collected' him. In other words, it grabbed him none to gently around his torso and slithered out of the maze before dumping him out in front of Medusa. "How disappointing."_

 _"_ _Fuck you! That thing's impenetrable; the only way that even you could get through the damn thing is with your magic, which we DON'T HAVE!" Ragnaroc grumbled, lips pouting on the sword._

 _Crona trembled with fear as Medusa stood slowly, her gold slit eyes cold. "Oh?"_

 _Ragnaroc chose this moment to shut up, the lips disappearing quickly. "It seems that you think that I am at your pathetic level of athleticism and prowess. To show you just how incorrect you are, I shall go in with you tomorrow." Crona's jaw dropped, the boy sure he misunderstood her. "My lovely will deliver your punishment for questioning me when you get to your room." Medusa spoke over her shoulder as she padded up the stairs into the mansion. Crona flinched as he looked at the huge snake, shoulders drooping as he dragged himself into his room._

 _The next morning arrived, Crona and Medusa standing outside the maze as the sun yawned at the early hour. Crona's punishment had been delivered swiftly, the snake sinking its dagger-like fangs into his side, pumping venom into the wound before the black blood was able to heal the punctures. Crona had spent the night whimpering on the floor, wishing his companion wouldn't talk back to Medusa._

 _Medusa trotted in, the young boy following her quickly. She ducked fluidly, a snake flying over her head, flipping over a spiked pit with ease a second later. Crona watched in disbelief as his mother effortlessly glided around traps, flipped over axes, blocked attacks, and snapped the necks of the archers without even breaking a sweat, leaving Crona behind when he struggled to keep up. Crona quickly ran into a vector plate, having to start over from the beginning. However, by the time that the moon rose in the sky that evening, Crona had started to grasp her technique. Lady Medusa moved like her snakes, smoothly and quietly, able to sense the attacks before they hit, and block them._

 _It took over two months of hard training before Crona finally was able to defeat the maze, but when he did, it was a good feeling. In fights like this, when there wasn't anyone that he had to hurt, Crona found that he was able to tap into a cold calmness that enabled him to instantly react to any change in his surroundings. Ragnaroc even got into the spirit and helped a little, calling out commands whenever he saw a trap or attack that Crona hadn't. When they finally reached the center, Crona found a small table with two satchels, one marked CRONA, the other RAGNAROC. His satchel had a small sketchbook and pencils, an instructional book on how to draw just about anything, and a small silver chain necklace with a snake charm. Ragnaroc's had a pair of white gloves, a pair of spiked silver cuffs, a studded silver shoulder strap, and a spiked silver collar, and a small bag of peppermints. "SWEET!" Ragnaroc yelled, pulling the accessories on. "Oh yeah. These rock!" The silver-clad boy whacked Crona on the head. "Hey, open the bag and give me a few of those mints, drip-wad."_

 _Crona did as he was told, setting the sweets on the top of Ragnaroc's round fists. As his companion busily crunched through the bag, Crona inspected his necklace. The charm was about an inch tall, the serpent made into an S form, inlaid with tiny green stones that dotted the crisscrossed pattern of scales, with the snake's tail looped around the silver chain. Crona smiled as he pulled the thin chain around his neck, knowing that snakes were his mother's symbol. He touched it, feeling happy that while his mother may not particularly like having a son, she was still willing to acknowledge him as hers. "Hey, Crona." Ragnaroc said, his sugar rush apparently making him feel a little kinder towards Crona than usual. "We've still got to get back out of here."_

 _Crona nodded, holding a hand out to his side and feeling Ragnaroc melt down into the sword, the black blood oozing into his hand before hardening and sharpening. Crona stared at the sword, surprised. Before, Ragnaroc had had a plain black hilt that connected to his black and silver blade, but now his hilt was dull silver with a spiked cross guard, a studded silver strap running up part of the ten minutes later, he trotted out of the maze, looking around in curiosity. Usually, whenever Crona was kicked out of the maze, Lady Medusa was there to scoff and glare at him, but this time she was nowhere to be seen._

 _Suddenly, he heard the leaves of the tree above him rustle and dove to the side, barely avoiding the sharp end of a thick spear as it buried itself where Crona had just been standing. A burly man dropped to the ground a minute later, yanking the spear up and twirling it around his body in a hypnotizing pattern. Then, quick as a flash, the man jabbed the point straight towards Crona, who had fortunately been expecting something similar and easily blocked the attack. Step to the left, slice down, switch grip and bring Ragnaroc's blade up to guard the side, slam hilt forward,step forward, jab, get up, duck, and… there! Crona smashed the flat of Ragnaroc's blade into his attacker's head, making the man's eyes roll up into his head as he dropped. A clap broke the sudden silence, Lady Medusa stepping forward as she clapped once again, a smug smile on her face. "How impressive. Not only have you made it through my little maze, but you seem to have also managed to capture an Academy agent. Well done."_

 _"_ _Academy?" Ragnaroc asked, voicing the question that was in Crona's mind._

 _Medusa waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't concern either of you. Crona, if you so wish you may go and read in the library for the next few hours."_

 _"_ _Thank you, Lady Medusa."_

 _"_ _Mm. And Ragnaroc, don't even think about vandalizing my books, understood?"_

 _"_ _Damn it."_

 _Medusa's gold eyes sparked dangerously. "What was that?"_

 _A bead of sweat ran down Ragnaroc's forehead as he backpedaled. "I said, 'yeah, sure'."_

 _"_ _Indeed."_

"Three steps to the left, lunge, roll to your left, spin, slice, jab, and… finish." Ragnaroc let out a breath, both Weapon and Maister breathing hard from the steady exercise. "Man, Crona. You're out of shape. Medusa would have had you on the ta-" Ragnaroc cut himself off, surprising Crona. "Anyway, I think I know of a way to get back on Maka's good side, or at least to let her see that you weren't kidding about her dad."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Don't sound so surprised!" Ragnaroc thwacked Crona on the ear. "If we can find something to prove that Spirit made Lord Death sick, then she'll have to believe us! Of course, it would probably be a good idea to soften her up with your sob story first."

Crona frowned up at his companion. "What?"

"Oh, you know, the whole 'I can't protect myself from bullies 'cause I'm afraid I'll be a worse one' thing. She'll eat it up, and you should know it, seeing as you're head over heels for the flattie." Ragnaroc smirked. "Come on, let's go spy on Maka's dad."

Crona's frown deepened as he obeyed, walking back into the school. "Ragnaroc, that sounds really bad."

"Ah, it probably sounds better than what it'll probably end up being."

"You're not helping."

"SAY THAT AGAIN, TWERP!" Ragnaroc began pummeling Crona's head, growling under his breath.

"Sorry, sorry! I take it back, okay? Ragnaroc, that hurts!"


	9. Chapter 9 - Distrust and an Artist

***************************************Chapter Nine

Crona peered into the window of the medical room, silver eyes nervous as he watched Spirit, the Death Scythe seemingly content to do nothing but lay around and sleep. "Ragnaroc, this isn't working! We've been here every day for the past week, and he hasn't done anything other than sleep!"

"That's not my fault, idiot."

"What am I going to do? I can't just go in there and demand that he tell us what he's been doing-"

Ragnaroc cut him off. "Why the hell not? He's the one that's been acting weird."

Crona flinched, staring at the floor. "What if he denies it? Then he'll know that we saw him, and Maka will never talk to us again."

"Fine with me."

"Ragnaroc!"

"Whatever. Let's go back to your room, this place is starting to give me the creeps."

Halfway back, Crona heard someone call, "Hey, hold up, Crona!"

Soul jogged up to the Maister and Weapon pair, his red eyes emotionless. "What did you say to Maka? She's been upset ever since we've got back, and I noticed that she's been ignoring you for the last few days. Whenever I try and ask her what's wrong, Maka Maka-chops me, which is seriously uncool. So what the heck did you do to piss her off?"

Crona looked at the floor, one hand automatically rubbing his other arm. "I-I…" He hesitated, shoulders rising defensively to his ears.

Soul sighed and sagged slightly. "Look, Crona. Whatever you did or said, she'll get over it. Just go and talk to her. Avoiding Maka because you're upset is not cool." He turned to leave, pausing to casually remark, "You know, Maka's gonna be hanging out over at our apartment later, probably moping or something equally uncool. I'll be hanging out at Kid's house with Black Star and Tsubaki, so she's gonna be there alone. You should go over."

"O-okay."

"Cool." Soul strolled off, hands in his pockets as Crona shivered and continued on.

When Crona got back to his room, he sat down on his bed and pulled his sketchbook out from in the chest under the bed. "So, any ideas yet?"

"No!"

"Sorry…"

Crona sketched out several scenes on his page; the top right showing when Spirit had been messing with Lord Death's tea bags, the top left picturing when he had scowled at Lord Death's back, the entire bottom showing Spirit as he switched the pills in the bottles, with two large eyes colored the same silvery-gold that Spirit's seemed to flash a lot lately separating the top half of the page and the bottom half.

When he had finished, Crona carefully tore the page out, neatly folded it and tucked the page into his shirt. Turning back to his sketchbook, he tapped the eraser against the page absent-mindedly. A soft trill brought his attention up to his solitary window, a black cat lightly jumping down into Crona's room. "Hello, there…" Crona smiled softly at the feline, offering a hand towards it. "I didn't know that anything could get up to that window." The cat padded over, allowing him to run his fingers through its velvety fur.

"You're quite beautiful." Crona leaned back to watch the feline settle into a crouch, majestic gold eyes staring back at the boy as he picked his pencil back up. He quickly sketched out the main outline, just in case it decided to move, the picture slowly fading into focus as he added more and more detail.

Finally he added one more flourish and nodded in satisfaction. "You're the nicest subject that I've had to draw for a while. What do you think?" Crona spun the sketchbook around for the cat to inspect, the feline blinking lazily before yawning widely and going to sleep on his chair. Crona grinned as he slid off of his bed, pulling his mattress up for a moment to grab a large manila envelope before letting it flop back down. Opening the flap, he gently slid out a small stack of papers and a second sketchbook. The papers were the most personal of Crona's more recent works, some of which included; a sketch he had drawn of a dream he had had in which he was kissing Maka in the school forest, several other assorted drawings of Maka, a drawing of Medusa, a sketch of Medusa with Crona, a detailed drawing of the Little One, and other sketches of Crona with his new friends. The sketchbook was the one that Medusa had given him years ago when he and Ragnaroc had made it through her maze. Its pages were filled with amateur sketches and drawings, pictures of snakes, the Little One, Ragnaroc, nature scenes, Lady Medusa's castle, and Lady Medusa herself the most prevalent images. There were four pages that Crona turned to the most, though. Flipping through, Crona quickly found two of them. In the midst of sloppy outlines and poor-to-non-existent shading, these two sheets were drawn out smoothly yet carefully, the strong strokes capturing the coils and scales of Medusa's two favorite snakes, their black slit eyes staring out at the viewer with pride. Elegant script noted tips on how to get the snake's lean form to look round, other notes explaining how to draw scales without having to cover the entire form, so on. Several sketches of Ragnaroc sneered out from underneath the serpents, both in his sword form and in the goofy looking figure form, the latter leaning on a surprised looking Crona. Medusa's fluid signature flourished across the bottom corner of the right page, Crona running his fingertips across it.

A later pair of pages were completely different, the artist's hand obviously heavy on the pencil, all of the sketches deeply imprinted on the page in thick, clumsy strokes. These sheets were covered in skulls, vines, spikes, fire, and many different styles of X's. Ragnaroc's name was drawn out in the center of both pages, boxed in by firmly drawn rectangles.  
Crona smiled and shook his head, remembering the day that Medusa had added her pictures.  
 _  
Six-year-old Crona frowned at the mirror sitting beside him, growling in frustration as he erased his carefully drawn lines for the hundredth time. "Why can't I get this right? Drawing you should be easy. You're completely made up of plain shapes!"  
_

 _"The hell I am!" Ragnaroc snarled, cracking a fist into Crona's head, the blow sending his pencil flying across the sketched figure."I am very extraordinary, and don't you forget it!"_

 _"I'm sorry!" Crona yelped, hands flying protectively over his head. "I was just saying that you shouldn't be this hard to sketch out!"_

 _"Bite me!"_

 _"I said I was sorry!"_

 _"Stop squabbling, you two." Medusa's cold tone instantly made both boys freeze, Crona dropping his pencil in surprise._

 _"What's going on?"_

 _"Damn kid can't draw!" Ragnaroc sneered, leaning on Crona's head. "He's been out here for the past two hours, trying unsuccessfully to draw my handsome mug."_

 _Gold eyes took in the heavily smudged page, lines drawn and redrawn so many times that the marks were made unerasable. "Start out with the basic shapes and work your way from there."_

 _Crona pouted. "That's what I've been trying to do for the past few hours. The head alone won't get the right shape, and when I do get the right shape, it's always the wrong size."_

 _Medusa crouched, picking up Crona's pencil. "Let me see that." Crona handed the sketchbook over hesitantly, worried that she would take it away but not wanting to anger his mother. "You need to focus less on the details at this point, and more on the general figure." Medusa flipped to a clean page before dipping the tip of the pencil to the paper, lines flowing in gentle circles and ovals. Crona watched in surprise as the ever-distant, fear and respect inducing cold Lady Medusa sat cross legged on her vector tail, one of her sharp canines barely biting the edge of her lip as she abstract shapes connected and smoothed out, becoming two main forms. Medusa glanced up occasionally at Crona and Ragnaroc, slit pupils slicing into them as the two forms began to grow in detail, becoming perfect replicas of the Maister and Weapon. Crona's mouth was hanging open in shock as she shaded in the eyes before nodding in satisfaction.  
"There. You see? If you start out with the main shapes, and slowly work your way up to the details, then your picture will be far better than a vaguely formed figure with a multitude of details." She eyed him for a moment, her mouth twisting in displeasure. "Crona, close your mouth."_

 _Crona snapped his mouth shut momentarily before a question slipped out. "H-how do you know how to do this?"_

 _Medusa smirked, flipping up her hood with an amused huff. "Why shouldn't I?" Crona flinched as her fingertips brushed the tip of his chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Well?"_

 _"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I just didn't…" Ragnaroc snorted and cuffed him on the ear._

 _"Moron. Crona does have a point, though. Why the hell do you draw? That seems like sissy stuff to me."_

 _Medusa's smile stretched eerily, eyes glinting. "How interesting. 'Sissy stuff', hmm?" She turned back to the book, hand making long, sweeping trails of lead against the white pages. Serpents in mid-writhe, intertwined coils dancing in complicated patterns spread out against the pages, Medusa's pencil sliding smoothly from one twist to crosshatching served as scales, Crona noticing as she streaked the eraser in their eyes to make them seem more the pencil to the side and placing the sketchbook squarely on the ground in front of her, Medusa closed her eyes and gently touched the heads of both snakes. "Nake Snake Cobra Cobera!"_

 _Crona gasped as the snakes' figures wriggled, pulling themselves off of the page to slither up his legs and torso, wrapping tightly around his neck. They hissed in unison at his companion, Ragnaroc answering snarl weak. Crona shook violently in fear as the gray serpents' fangs hung not an inch from his face, their bodies brushing up against his soft flesh. "Still think that drawing well is 'Sissy stuff', Ragnaroc?" Medusa asked, smirking widely as she watched Crona quiver._

 _"No! No! It's cool!" Ragnaroc's voice was shaky, confirming Crona's private theory that the Weapon was terrified of snakes. "Seriously!"_

 _"Indeed." Medusa tapped the page, the serpents immediately slithering back down to sink into two dimensional pictures once more. "Sadly, I can only bring the images of snakes to life with my magic, but by the time I had figured that out I had learned how to draw a multitude of other things."_

 _She eyed the page thoughtfully and wrote out a few suggestive notes around the images before handing the book back to Crona. "In any case, try it again."_

 _Crona tapped the cover, knowing that he drew better after a successful attempt. "I think that I'll draw a few birds first, I've gotten really good at drawing birds." He flipped through the pages, looking for the smudged sheet. Suddenly both Maister and Weapon gasped in pain, their blood boiling in their veins. Lady Medusa's gold eyes were cold as she watched, a glowing violet light streaming from her hand to Crona's chest._

 _"I don't make suggestions." The words froze as they left his mother's lips, seeming to drop heavily into his ears. "When I tell you to do something, you do it. It's really quite a simple arrangement, don't you think?"_

 _"Y-yes, Lady Medusa!" Crona gasped, dropping the sketchbook and pencil as a particularly strong wave of agony swept over them. Ragnaroc cursed breathlessly as she nodded in satisfaction, releasing them from her spell._

 _"Well then. Let's try this again, shall we?" Lady Medusa didn't wait for a response. "Crona, try drawing Ragnaroc again."_

 _"Y-yes, Lady Medusa." Crona shakily picked up the rumpled book and fallen pencil, flipping it to a blank page. He started off stiffly, expecting a blow or scolding for not doing the sketch right, but as Lady Medusa merely watched, slit pupils studying his drawing, he relaxed slightly. To his surprise, as he ever-so-slowly faded the form into the comical contours of his companion, it actually looked somewhat like Ragnaroc, unlike all of his other sketches._

 _"Well done." Medusa gave him a short, approving smile before hopping lightly off of her snake tail and walking off, leaving a stunned pair behind her._

 _"Did snake lady actually just give you a… complement?" Ragnaroc asked, voice disbelieving._

The other set of drawings had come a few months later, a couple of weeks after he and Ragnaroc had eaten their first human soul. Crona had gotten a few more such art lessons from Lady Medusa, his drawings getting better each time. Crona worked as hard as he could to get better, since drawing was the only thing that made Medusa tolerate his company without him having to hurt or destroy some poor creature or person. Sometimes, when he did an especially good job, she would even give him one of her incredibly rare smiles. Not her wide evil smile, not her customary amused and scornful smirk, not even her thin, fake, patronizing smile that she gave him a lot when she sent him out on her little 'missions'. No, this smile was rare, it was fleeting, it was small, but it was real and it made Crona strive above and beyond to gain the honor of seeing that flash of teeth directed at his work.  
 _  
Crona had just finished a realistic sketch of Lady Medusa's castle, back resting comfortably against a tree as he shaded on texture and depth. Suddenly, he yelped loudly as the much larger version of Ragnaroc ripped himself out of Crona's back, the pain far worse now than before. "Hey, what do you find so great about scribbling out the shit you see?" As Ragnaroc spoke, his large fingers tugged absently at the corners of Crona's mouth, stretching his face into uncomfortable contortions._

 _"Ow! W-Wady Medusha wikes it wh-when I dwah- Wagnawok, p-pwease stop, I can't deaw wif this!" Ragnaroc withdrew his fingers from Crona's mouth, the smaller boy giving off a relieved sigh before grimacing slightly as he felt large gloved hands rubbing themselves off in his hair._

 _"So, you're basically sucking up to that bitch?"_

 _"N-no I'm not…" Crona brushed a hand over the pages, stroking his pencil marks gently. "I-I really enjoy drawing."_

 _"Screw this." Ragnaroc grabbed the book from Crona, ignoring his companion's horrified complaints. "Damn… This is such prissy garbage! I could do better than this!" The heavily muscled Weapon smirked, snatching the pencil out of Crona's grasp. "Watch and learn."_

 _Crona flinched as Ragnaroc's giant hand forced his head into an upright position, wincing as the sketchbook was smacked against the top of his head. He waited patiently as his head was pushed forward from the pressure of Ragnaroc's drawing, the strokes rough and sharp. Finally Ragnaroc huffed out a pleased chuckle and dropped both book and pencil down into Crona's lap. "Now that's what her Snakeness probably wants to see, not your pathetic crap."_

 _Crona's jaw dropped in surprise at the fact his large friend could draw, albeit very roughly and jerkily. "Wow… that's amazing, Ragnaroc!"_

 _"Hell yeah!" Ragnaroc's voice was smug, but Crona thought that he might be able to catch a hint of embarrassment hidden away in his companion's tone. "Couldn't be worse than the junk that you drew; birds and plants and all that shit."_

 _"B-but you drew a p-plant…"_

 _"Damn it, Crona! Those are vines, and they're cool!" Ragnaroc's fist left Crona seeing stars, the Weapon huffily withdrawing back into Crona's bloodstream after knocking the other boy senseless._

Crona smiled softly and shut the book, tucking all of the drawings back into the envelope and tucking it safely under the bed again. He ate a quick supper, most of it going to the ravenous Ragnaroc, setting a small dish of milk out for the sleeping cat and doing the dishes before heading out to Maka's apartment. He decided to walk by the medical chambers and look in on Spirit one more time, half hoping that he could catch the Death Scythe doing something that was plainly bad.

Spirit was sitting up on his bed, looking bored out of his mind. Crona was going to sigh and walk off without disturbing the older man, but sky blue eyes flashed up and caught his pale silver orbs, Spirit instantly cheering up. "Crona!"

"H-hi, Mr. Spirit." Crona shuffled into the room, eyes on the floor.

"What's up?"

"N-not much."

Spirit groaned, flopping back on his pillows. "Come on! Can't you throw me a bone? There is nothing to do in here, the only people I see are you, Stein, and Lord Death!" Crona flinched as Spirit's eyes flashed golden white momentarily. "It's as though all of the lovely women in the world have abandoned me! Not even my own daughter has come in to see me!"

Crona frowned, confused. "Wh-why don't you just go out? You're able to walk just fine." He didn't notice as Spirit stiffened, eyes changing to that odd color again, his gaze fixed on his shoes.

"What?"

"I s-saw you walking around before-" Crona paled, remembering that when he had seen that was when he and Ragnaroc had been spying on Spirit. "Y-You kn-know what? I-I was p-probably j-just im-magining things. I-I've really g-got to g-go, I-I'm going to g-go t-talk to Maka." Crona mentally cursed as he heard his slight stutter flick up into overdrive, his nerves frazzled.

He looked up just in time to see Spirit's eyes flare brightly, the golden white orbs fixed on him in cold calculation, before they returned to their normal dark blue. "You're going to see my baby girl?" Instantly the Death Scythe grabbed Crona's shoulders, frantically shaking the terrified boy. "Please, you have to get her to come visit me! My sweet angel baby, why haven't you come to see your poor papa?"

Crona squeaked in fright as the surprisingly strong Weapon shook him back and forth, wailing in his face. Spirit finally let him go to bawl into his hands, Crona falling back hard onto the floor. "I-I'll see what I can d-do." He picked himself up and left as quickly as he could without being rude, clicking the door shut behind him with some relief. Crona completely missed Spirit's eyes turning blond again as he stared after the young Maister, his gaze unreadable.

Crona trotted down the stairs that led from the entrance of the DWMA down to the entrance to Death City, absently counting the steps as he went. The fact that the school had eighty-eight steps was a fact that Crona was keeping to pull Kid out of one of his deep depression moments, though it really wouldn't surprise Crona if his symmetry obsessed friend already knew.

Crona walked past bustling shops and happy homes, keeping close to the sides of the buildings to avoid the loud throngs of Death City residents. While he had gotten to the point where he could be around large amounts of people, Crona was by no means happy in crowds. He relaxed slightly as the building that Maka and Soul lived in came into view, picking his pace up to a light jog. Crona slumped against the closest wall when he finally made it into the building, closing the door against the noise and erratic movement of the street and taking a deep breath before continuing on.

He knocked on Maka's door, biting his lip and rubbing his arm as he stared a hole in the floor. "Who is it?"

"C-Crona." Crona's shoulders went up to touch his ears. "M-Maka?"

He heard a faint sigh, then Maka's voice spoke up again, sounding vaguely reluctant. "The door's open." Crona hesitantly walked in, quietly closing the door behind him. "What do you want, Crona?" He flinched and looked at his feet, hearing tired frustration in her tone.

"S-Soul said that you were u-upset, and th-that I should come talk with y-you…" Crona trailed off as Maka's emerald eyes darkened dangerously.

"What… do… you… want… Crona?" Maka drug out her words, a finger tapping out a steady rhythm against the book she was reading. "You lied to me, and then you avoid me, and then suddenly you want to talk?"

Crona flinched at each word, huddling into himself at Maka's irritated admonishment. "I-I'm s-sorry…"

"Crona, I don't know what to tell you! The last time you lied to me, you ended up running away from the academy because you had put one of Medusa's snakes into Miss Marie's coffee. I don't want to wake up one day and find you gone again, I couldn't stand it! If you can't tell me what's going on, I really don't want to talk with you right now."

Crona pulled together what little courage he had and nodded. "A-alright. Ab-bout a week after you left is when Spirit first woke up, and Ragnaroc and I noticed that his eyes changed colors every now and then. I don't know if that has anything to do with the stuff he's been doing, but-" he shrugged. "A-anyway, the morning that you guys came back, D-Doctor Stein was making up some t-tea bags for Lord Death. He h-had to leave to do something, and Sp-Spirit had me go get him some aspirin, and when I c-came back in…" Crona's hands clenched into fists, the move bolstering his courage. "Sp-Spirit had done something to Lord Death's tea bags. Later on, D-Doctor Stein came back and told us that L-Lord Death wasn't feeling well."

He risked a quick glance up at Maka's face, only to flinch at the harsh glare that she was giving him. "You're blaming my dad for Lord Death's illness again?"

"I-I'm just t-telling you what I-"

Maka got up, green eyes flashing angrily. "While Spirit is an ass of a father, and just a creep in general, he would never hurt or betray Lord Death!"

Crona hurried to continue telling her what he had seen, hoping that the blond Maister would calm down. "L-later that day, he was exchanging pills in one of the bottles in th-the medical chambers-"

"Crona, stop right there. How dare you come over here and accuse my father?"

Crona waved his hands and shook his head. "N-no! I-I'm not accusing an-anyone! P-please, I just wanted someone else to know th-that Spirit's able t-to walk, though I d-don't know why he's hiding it…"

"Oh, so now not only has my father, for whatever reason, made Lord Death sick, but he's also just pretending to be bedridden?"

Crona gave her a relieved smile, glad that she understood his nervous ramblings. "E-exactly!"

He yelped as she snarled, gloved fists clenching. "Crona, that's really, really low. Accusing an invalid is… It's really low. In fact, if you look at the evidence, it's you who would be the more likely suspect if anything was actually done to Lord Death."

Crona paled. "Wh-what?"

"You're the only person in the academy that's ever betrayed Lord Death, other than Medusa. You're half witch, so you technically might have the power to hurt a shinigami. You even have motives!" Each word slammed into Crona with the force of a physical blow. He began to shake, his entire body quivering in shock and pain. "After all, you could be mad that your room is still the cell that you were trapped before Medusa's death. Or, you could be frustrated at the fact that Lord Death confiscated all of the souls that Ragnaroc ate. Now that I think of it, that would make perfect sense! It would certainly explain why you've been lying to m-me…" Maka's voice cracked and faded on the last word, emerald eyes widening. Crona felt something inside him crack as he saw the three emotions that he had had nightmares about seeing in her eyes; pain, anger, and the absolute worst, a momentary flash of fear.

He froze, feeling that crack grow inside him. Crona's mind flowed from one emotion to another; pain that she was mad at him, hurt that she would ever think that he would betray or attack her, and then his mind just went blank under overwhelming panic, the only thought left in his mind being to go somewhere safe and hide.

Backing up, Crona pulled the door open and ran.


	10. Chapter 10 - Old Wound and New Betrayal

Maka's brain finally caught up with her, pulling her out of her haze, and she realized what she had just done. She had just yelled at Crona that he could have betrayed all of his friends, accused him of horrible things out of anger. "What was I thinking?!" Maka had seen the pain in his silver eyes as she momentarily entertained the thought that he really could have made Lord Death ill, before his pain changed into fear. The lavender-headed boy had slowly backed up before yanking the door open and sprinting away.

"Maka, you can really be stupid sometimes," she growled at herself before running after him. "Crona, please wait!"

Crona would never take out his anger on anyone at the academy; in fact Maka couldn't remember the last time that she had actually ever seen the gentle Maister mad at all. Why did her temper get struck up so hard when he had clearly been uncomfortable telling her about Spirit in the first place? Crona didn't lie, and the rare times that he did, such as where his injuries had come from, they were highly transparent fibs that he rushed through jerkily, refusing to make eye contact for a good five minutes after telling them. However, when he was talking about Spirit, he did try to look at her. So why couldn't she have just listened to him? "Crona!"

She burst out the doors of her apartment building, head whipping from left to right as she tried to figure out where the timid boy had gone. "CRONA!"

~~~CRONA'S POV~~~

Crona's vision was beginning to blur as he ran into an alley, tears welling up as he leaned heavily against the wall.

"Crona!"

He flinched at the sound of Maka's yell, knowing that she was probably furious. Who could blame her? Not only did she most likely think that he was trying to kill Lord Death, but now it looked like he had been trying to shift the blame onto Spirit. Crona knew from experience that running was a signal of fear, and the only reason that Maka would think that he would have for running was guilt.

"Why couldn't I just stay there?" His agonized whisper was hoarse, Crona's throat sealing up as his mind pulled up the image of Maka's fear-filled eyes. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

His legs gave out underneath him, sending Crona sliding down against the rough brick wall, the ragged building's wall tearing into his back. Crona huddled on the ground, tears dripping onto the dirt as he desperately tried to keep his madness repressed.

"Let me help, please!" Raven's voice was sad, Crona's shadow having a steep frown on its face. "Seeing you in so much pain hurts me…"

"N-no, I can't." Crona gripped his hair tightly, focusing on keeping his emotions somewhat in check. "I c-can't, I can't!"

"Alright, alright, just calm down." Raven soothed, the shadow looking concerned. "Everything's going to be fine. I won't meld with you unless you want to, you know that."

"N-nothing's fine, Maka's mad at me!"

Raven frowned, eyes and voice growing dangerous. "I can make it so that that girl will never upset you ag-"

"NO!" Crona growled, hands clenching into tight fists as his lips pulled up into a snarl. "Never, ever threaten Maka!"

"Sorry, sorry." Raven apologized. "What can I do to help?"

"N-nothing. Just leave me alone, p-please?" Crona could feel a sob welling up in his chest and he just wanted everything to leave him alone.

"If that will help you. I hope you'll reconsider and play with me." Raven faded away, a tear rolling down its cheek as it did so.

The sob ripped itself out of Crona's mouth, his shoulders bobbing up and down as his thin frame wracked itself with the force of his sobs. He muffled his pained cries in his hands, just letting the agony out.

He knew that he was a despicable person, a murderer, a liar, a freak, and just an overall monster, but Maka had made him feel like he might be able to redeem himself one day. She was the first person to see him as a boy and not just a pathetic waste of a son or a horrifying monster. And now, the look in Maka's eyes, the thought that Maka felt that he was something to be feared, was killing him.

No, he could deal with being killed, he knew that he deserved it, but the agony of having the first person who didn't look at him with disgust or terror see him for the monster he was for something that he hadn't actually even done was far worse.

That particular look was one that he had only seen in Maka's eyes once before; the first time that they had met.

 _Crona had gotten the hang of how to half-control Lady Medusa's madness; the insanity he was forced into when she sent her snake to meld with Crona and Raven. He was now able to speak a few words with a clear mind, though he was never able to stay sane for more than a few moments at a time unless he was startled or calm. Crona had found a long time ago that it was far better to just stay huddled safely in utter insanity rather than try and oppose Lady Medusa's overwhelming will._

 _Crona had been staying out of the fight he had just been in, sitting with Raven and merely sadly observing. He wasn't sure if what had just gone on could really be counted as a fight, after all, they were a huge crowd of big and burly men that practically oozed danger. Then there was Crona. It wasn't really too much of a challenge to kill them all, his crazy side relishing their terror filled shrieks of agony as they were dispatched. Ragnaroc gagged slightly as he swallowed their souls, cracking one large gloved fist against Crona's back and yelling at him for ruining the taste. "Idiot! You can't just kill them, you have to let them get scared enough to shit their pants! That's the only way to get that minty flavor, this way they taste like burnt rubber."_

 _"Oh, shut up Ragnaroc." Crazy Crona smirked, folding his arms and staring defiantly up at his Weapon._

 _"Good work, Crona." Crona and Raven flinched as Medusa's snake hissed into Crona's ear, the shadowy reptile almost seeming to grin at their fear. "Oh, how interesting. Stay there, and put on a show for me."_

 _"Y-yes, Lady Medusa." Crona grabbed control over his body long enough to nod and grab his arm in discomfort, turning to look at the beautiful glass window at the back of the church. His artist's eye was approving of the delicate design, while his bubbling insanity was wondering how much it would hurt to smash the window and slice himself to ribbons on it. Ragnaroc sank back into Crona's back, making the boy wince as his back resealed itself._

 _The huge double doors swung open behind him, two sets of footsteps trotting into the hall. One was softer and slightly more hesitant than the other, Crona's training instantly informing the boy that that was the weaker of the two and therefore the better target to attack._

 _"What the hell? He's in there all by himself. What happened to his Weapon partner?" The voice was that of a young teen boy, confused but confident._

 _"No… There's no way…" This voice was female, making Crona wince. He was bad around girls, not having any experience with females other than Lady Medusa. Lady Medusa also hadn't really had him interact or attack any women in years, so he was very unsure as to how to proceed here. This girl sounded horrified, which put Crona slightly at ease. That was something that he had heard in every person's voice that he had attacked for Lady Medusa, so he had almost gotten used to it. Almost._

 _"Now what?" The boy spoke again, Crona finally turning to see who he was probably going to have to kill soon. The boy had spiky white hair, was wearing an orange and white jacket and jeans, and had ruby red eyes. The girl was standing in front of the boy, apparently in command. Crona frowned momentarily, confused. Why would the weaker of the two be in charge? She had dirty blond hair in pigtails, was wearing a long black jacket over a white shirt, yellow vest, and red skirt, and her piercing green eyes were filled with freaked out fear._

 _"Lady Medusa, it looks like two others have arrived." Ragnaroc spoke politely, mouth poking out of Crona's left arm, caution in every word. He had cursed out Lady Medusa earlier, and Crona was still feeling the pain from the torture she had inflicted on them._

 _"Keep it down, Ragnaroc. You need to be quiet now." Crona warned, both boys having learned the hard way that Lady Medusa seemed to enjoy people's reactions at Ragnaroc's entrance. Crona always hated it when Lady Medusa wanted them to put on a show for her, his part a lot harder and more painful to play than his Weapon partner's._

 _"I'm reading the souls of a Meister and a Weapon, and both of them are directly in front of us." Crona stared at the ground, hoping she would just go away. "That means…" No, no, no! Lady Medusa was going to be very unhappy if- "That Meister standing there… has a Weapon inside of his body."_

 _Crona stiffened and glanced towards the girl. Oh no…_

 _The boy beside her shifted into a scythe, the girl grasping his handle firmly. "What?" Crona nodded, relieved. The reason that the girl was in charge was because that she was the Maister. That made sense. "What are you talking about, Maka?" So, the girl's name was Maka. "You're telling me that there's a Weapon inside that dude?"_

 _"Not for long, it's coming out." Crona sighed tiredly, knowing that she was right and wondering absently how she knew that. He stared at the ground, one hand grasping his arm as his shoulders sagged._

 _Suddenly, pain shot across his shoulders and up through his neck and into his head, making him cry out hoarsely. Crona grabbed his head as flashing pain throbbed through his head, pained gasps erupting from his lips. He twisted from side to side, trying uselessly to get rid of his crushing headache, wishing that Lady Medusa's shows didn't have to be quite so painful. The agony only got worse; making Crona throw his head and torso back, his arms dangling limply at his sides, howling loudly at the ceiling. Crona's pained cries got louder as Ragnaroc forced his black blood to snap and crack inside of him, feeling almost as bad as the one time that his Weapon had accidentally broken three of his ribs. Throwing the top of his torso back forward, he smashed his fists firmly against his head as Ragnaroc slowly pushed himself out of Crona's back, the process slow and torturous. Finally, the skin ruptured and Ragnaroc gushed out of the top of his shoulders in a geyser of black blood, making a loud, long-drawn out scream burst out of Crona's chest. Ragnaroc was really laying it on thickly, forming his limbs one after another but leaving his white x-ed face for last, x-ed out eyes rolling around freakishly for a moment before settling in one place._

 _"Guh-gup goop geek!" Ragnaroc hiccuped, turning to stare at the other Maister and Weapon pair. Crona heard the girl gasp quietly behind him and felt a momentary twinge of unease. What if he wasn't supposed to hurt girls? "Goop ge-geek!" One of Ragnaroc's hard fists bonked into Crona's still-sore head, making his head throb even worse._

 _"That hurts me!" Ragnaroc's other fist came around, his knuckles burrowing into Crona's lavender hair and burning the skin underneath. "It hurts! It hurts it hurts!" Crona whimpered as Ragnaroc bullied him, the larger boy's fists crushing his head. It also didn't help that Crona was having to stagger around to keep their balance as Ragnaroc focused on tormenting him instead of staying still. "Stop moving around like that… You're squeezing me!" Ragnaroc giggled madly and started jabbing Crona. "Stop poking me… OW!" Ragnaroc had smushed Crona's nose up against his head. "Stop already! Don't poke my nose!" Scowling, Ragnaroc gave Crona's head a sharp whack. "You're bruising me!"_

 _As Ragnaroc returned to noogying both sides of Crona's head, Crona's temper broke out- a very rare occurrence, and he yelled at his companion, an even rarer occurrence. "STOP IT, NOW! I've had enough already!"_

 _Ragnaroc reared back, waving his arms in an I-give-up motion. "Now, now, calm down Crona." The Weapon smirked crazily as he mocked Crona. "You're so scary when you're stressed out like this."_

 _"Okay, this is getting weird." Crona had almost forgotten the girl, Maka, but at her muttered words he looked back up towards her. "You should know that the hunting of human souls is strictly forbidden." Crona frowned again, exchanging a quick confused glance with Ragnaroc. "Are you students? I haven't seen you at the Academy."_

 _Crona was floored. "At the where? What Academy?" He ignored Ragnaroc as the other boy's hands squished his face into uncomfortable positions, having sadly gotten used to his Weapon's overbearing and highly painful antics over the years. "Anyway, she said it was okay to eat the human souls." It occurred to him after he had spoken that he probably shouldn't have brought up Lady Medusa even in passing, but it was too late now. He drooped a little at the punishment that they were likely to receive when they returned to Lady Medusa's castle later. "I don't see what's wrong with it if she said it was okay." Crona cringed, realizing that he had mentioned Lady Medusa yet again, but fortunately Maka seemed more focused on the fact that Ragnaroc had snacked on the human souls than on Lady Medusa. Crona fidgeted under Maka's emerald-eyed stare, feeling Lady Medusa's cold insanity taking hold over him again as he lost his concentration under this pretty girl's fierce gaze. He felt warmth rise in his cheeks as he looked down and to the side to avoid her continuous stare and sighed. "I'm, uh, I'm not good at talking with girls." His eyes flicked momentarily up to snatch a peek at Maka before returning to bore a hole in the ground as he thought of Lady Medusa and flinched. "They make me nervous."_

 _Ragnaroc leaned over next to Crona's head and grinned. "Never mind that, her soul looks tasty."_

 _Maka didn't look intimidated in the least, frowning at Ragnaroc as she held her ground fearlessly. Crona wished he was that confident. "Meisters and their Weapons are not allowed to collect human souls for any reason. We hunt only the souls that have become Keishen eggs." She slid back into a more solid stance, bringing her Scythe up into an attack position. "Now it's my duty to stop you. You will not hunt any more humans, you hear me?"_

 _Ragnaroc poked Crona in the head. "Let's get her, Crona." Crona nodded wordlessly, still not able to meet the girl's green gaze. He wished that they could just let these two go, but Lady Medusa wanted a show, so a show they would perform for her._

 _"Mm."_

 _Ragnaroc pulled off one of his flashier moves, dissolving right then and there into his black blood form, the obsidian droplets dangling in midair above Crona, who was still holding his arm. Without letting go he reached up into the ink-black mass, grabbing Ragnaroc's handle and pulling down, the black blood shaping itself into the sharp blade that Crona knew so well._

 _Maka blanched. It was barely noticeable, but she had flinched. "It turned into a Weapon. A Sword!"_

 _Crona hesitated, knowing that this was going to be the other pair's final moments, before twirling Ragnaroc in a neat X and darting forward, letting his Weapon's blade tip strike up sparks against the hard floor as he ran. "He's gonna strike from below!" Maka's Weapon companion yelled as the girl easily swung the large Scythe around. Crona let Lady Medusa's madness envelope him so that it wouldn't hurt as much as he destroyed the beautiful girl and her Weapon. Crazy Crona lurched in shock as the Scythe's blade blocked his attack, lurching forward from his momentum as Maka merely braced herself with the weight of her Weapon's blade. He gasped in surprise, most of his opponents usually having been sliced in half by now._

 _"Stop this!" the girl yelled, smashing the back of her fist against Crona's cheek with enough force to crack his head to one side._

 _Crona's shock pulled him out of his insanity, whimpering sadly, "Y-you're going to start poking at me also?" Maka swung her companion over her head, the blade flashing down to cut him in two, but Crona jumped back in time to avoid the blow. Maka planted the base of her Scythe's blade firmly on the ground and flipped over the Weapon, using her momentum to neatly slam on top of Crona. He smashed into the ground, her knees digging painfully into his back. Maka jumped back up, Scythe swinging up to deliver the final blow._

 _"You've got him now!" The girl roared an adrenaline packed howl, apparently encouraged by her partner's words._

 _"RaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"_

 _Crona glanced up at her as he spun and bounced back up on his feet._

 _Ker-shlang!_

 _Raven huddled protectively over Crona's mental form as Medusa's shadowy snake chuckled darkly._

 _Crazy Crona looked almost disappointedly at the red and black blade that had just smashed into his shoulder, automatically grabbing his arm even though the comfort gesture wasn't necessary for the insane version of himself. He heard Maka gasp in a scared breath, and looked up to see her pupils contract as her hands began to shake._

 _A bright tear rolled down Raven's cheek as he stood in front of Crona, sneaking a glance over at a discarded branch longingly but unable to move from his post as Medusa's snake eyed him in amusement. "Did you think you could cut him in half?" Medusa's voice echoed in Crona's mind, Crazy Crona hearing the words as his silver eyes met wide emerald orbs._

 _"Oh, no. Not with a stroke like that one." He barely noticed as droplets of black blood plopped heavily to the floor, oozing from the shallow cut that curved around his upper shoulder to his lower back, but Maka did._

 _"Black?" she breathed, her voice starting to break. "Black blood?"_

 _Crona leaned in beside the girl's frozen figure, whispering in her ear. "Yes. That's right." Maka turned her head to look at him. "My blood is black." She jumped two large strides back, putting some space in between her and him. Neither Crona nor his insanity could blame her for that; he was pretty scary when he went nuts._

 _"What's up with this guy?" Crona faintly heard her Weapon ask. "His body's way freaky!" Crazy Crona flashed a quick grin at the other boy's too true statement, staggering a few steps after them. He had to admit though, Maka had a lot of courage. She was still holding her ground instead of turning tail and running, though Crona could see how terrified she was of him. His opinion of the other two was only increasing by the minute, which was making the fact that he was going to have to hurt them making him feel worse and worse._

 _"I think I have an idea." Maka was talking to her Weapon partner, though her eyes never left him. "I don't know how it's possible, but I think that his blood itself is a Weapon." Crona stared at the ground, wondering how this girl knew all of these terrible secrets. The only people who knew about him was Lady Medusa, and all of his dead victims. "I was able to cut through his skin, but his blood hardened and the blade stopped completely when I hit his blood vessels."_

 _"Well, if you're right, then how do you propose we go about beating him?" Crona smiled sadly, thinking that that was impossible. No one could defeat him, other than his mother._

 _"None of our normal attacks will work. I'm not even sure Witch Hunter will help." Maka looked frustrated, fear dimming as her anger swelled. "If only I could shoot my soul wave length directly at him like Black Star does, I might be able to do some internal damage. Otherwise, I have no idea what to do."_

 _Medusa's snake struck, sending Raven convulsing to the ground. It slithered forward to coil around Crona's unmoving mental body, hissing her cold words into his ear. "Crona. Why are you taking it so easy? Do something!"_

 _Crona gulped nervously, trying to find a way to get Lady Medusa to let the Maister and Weapon pair go. He knew very well that if he let her know that he wanted them to escape, that she would insist upon him killing them in a cruel and vicious manner. Crona's eyes darted from side to side as he stumbled through his words. "It's not like the ones before. Those were boys, she's a girl!" He knew that Lady Medusa considered him to be little more than scum, which Crona knew was true, but he wasn't quite as clueless as she and Ragnaroc thought he was. Crona was drawing on their perception of him as a spineless coward to hopefully convince Lady Medusa to let the two other teens go. "I'm no good with girls, what am I supposed to do with her?"_

 _His heart sank as Crona heard Lady Medusa's snake chuckle evilly, her voice amused as her velvet voice spoke up again. "How silly."_

 _Lady Medusa's snake pulled the two limp figures together, jaws widening as it prepared to strike. "Kill her, of course." It struck, sending a rush of insanity through Crona's mind._

 _"What's with this guy?" Crona absently heard the Scythe ask, his voice confused. "And who is he talking to?"_

 _Crazy Crona grinned madly, eyes darting in every which direction as he giggled. "Oh, okay. You're saying I can kill the girl? I didn't realize that." He glanced over towards Maka, the girl paling slightly at his crazy gaze. Crona's smirk only widened as he eyed her ponytails. "But maybe I could play with her hair first." His insane side was laughing uproariously at both Maister and Weapon's expressions as they stared in horror at him, also giggling at the thought of slicing the girl's hair into chunks and strands. "Just for a little while."_

 _Crona's sanity cringed at what he was saying, grabbing control long enough to try and warn the pair. "The doors here open inward." His quiet voice was slurring slightly as Crona slipped back into madness. "They only open one way!" He leaned backward, raising Ragnaroc straight up. Crona's voice sounded distant and monotone as his sanity and madness fought for control of his mind. "Ragnaroc." He pulled the handle down to chest level, blade parallel to his face. "Screaming Resonance."_

 _Ragnaroc's lips popped out of the blade and the Sword hiccupped. "Gu-pi!" His mouth opened wide, teeth grinning as Ragnaroc yelled. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYAAAAAAAA!" Crazy Crona smirked as the handle vibrated in his hand, letting the blade drop to the floor and then swung it up, releasing the pent-up energy of the sound waves in Maka's direction._

 _Crona darted forward, using his extreme speed to leap high into the air, giving him a good view as Maka barely blocked his first attack. As he fell back to the ground, Crona slashed down, the hard grip on his arm giving his blow more strength as he brought the Sword up and over his head. Maka was only just able to bring her Weapon's staff up to deflect his attack, the force sliding her back a good four feet or so. Crona stabbed forward as the Scythe yelped, "He's coming Maka! Guard now!"_

 _Ragnaroc's blade jabbed forward, Maka swinging the Scythe up and around, Ragnaroc's razor sharp edge smashing into the hilt of the blade. Crona was amazed and impressed with Maka's strength as they struggled back and forth, neither one able to gain the upper hand. That was when Ragnaroc decided to help in the fight, screaming in a high enough pitch to vibrate. "PEEYAAAAAHHHH!"_

 _The Scythe howled in pain, crimson spurting from his blade as the sound waves forced Ragnaroc's blade into the other Weapon's handle. "SOUL!" Maka yelled in concern, smashing a heavy boot into Crona's gut and sending him staggering back. "Stop it!" Crona winced in pain, her blow making him half double-over. He fought down his gag instinct as he steadied his stance, feet wide and planted. "Are you okay, Soul? Talk to me!" Crona's silver eyes widened in shock at the concern and worry in her voice as Maka spoke to her Weapon: Crona never having heard those tones being directed at another person before._

 _His surprise only grew as her Scythe, Soul, groaned in pain, scarlet still spurting from his chest and blade. "You don't need to worry about that right now! I am your Weapon partner, Maka. That means that I am always prepared to die for my Meister."_

 _Crona's grip on his arm tightened to an almost unbearable level, his other hand holding Ragnaroc up almost like a shield between him and the caring relationship that he was witnessing, his silver eyes wide with pain and shock and sorrow. This couldn't be the way that other people interacted; they had to be faking this. They just had to! Crona's mixed feelings kept him in a sort of stupor as Ragnaroc growled and screamed again, his Weapon just as confused as he was. They both watched as Maka calmed herself down, giving her Weapon another worried look before glaring at them, face unreadable._

 _Crona got up on his toes and swung Ragnaroc in wide x's first on one side then the other, using his slight lack of balance to speed up the slices as he shuffled forward. He could see Maka visibly tensing as he got closer, and decided to use speed and surprise to his advantage again, lunging forward to jab Ragnaroc's point forward…_

 _She dodged to the side and darted forward, planting the butt of Soul's staff against the ground and spun herself around, using her legs to knock Cronas' out from under him. Crona flipped, managing to block a blow as he was upside down in the air, the strength of the two Weapons crashing together sending the two Maisters flying to opposite ends of the room. Both landed on their feet, Maka breathing heavily as Crona readied himself to attack again, his grip on his arm never having loosened. Ragnaroc sometimes mocked him for the comforting gesture, but it was a comfort, and Crona had very few of those, so he clung desperately to the ones he retained._

 _Swinging the Sword to cross his chest for a moment, he stabbed and leapt towards Maka, still feeling mixed on whether or not to kill her. Over and over he jabbed at her head, growing more and more confused as to why she wasn't deflecting the blows, merely evading them. If she kept this up, Maka wouldn't be able to step back anymore, and the speed of his attacks left her with no time to return blows if she didn't deflect. Soul apparently shared his confusion, the Scythe yelling, "What's the matter, Maka? Quit dodging and start fighting back!"_

 _Crona bit his lip, wishing that they would stop being so kind to each other. First Maka was worried about her Weapon, something that he had seen was not common among the few other Maisters he had fought. They had all considered their Weapons to be tools to protect themselves with, something Crona didn't think he could ever feel with Ragnaroc, the bullying Weapon always having been there to protect him when he truly needed it. He had thought that maybe caring about his Weapon's well-being was just as freakish as having black blood or having his insanity be a separate being from himself, just something else that made him a monster. But these two, they were messing with his head, making him think about himself again and he HATED thinking about himself. He had done too many horrible things to like himself, or even think that he was tolerable. And Soul… Soul was yelling at Maka to use him, even though he knew that Crona had the ability to hurt him, kill him._

 _Ragnaroc screamed their joint confused frustration, his blade vibrating as it swished barely an inch beside Maka's face again and again. "Maka!" Soul yelled again, fear-striken concern in his voice. Jab-jab-jab-jab-jab… Crona didn't let up as he continued to step forward, Maka dodging and backing up. Finally his insanity sliced through, a crooked grin cracking across his face as he giggled and stepped back, swinging Ragnaroc at Maka's ankles. She lost her balance as she hurriedly stepped back, falling back… back slamming against the large double doors at the entrance of the church. Crazy Crona smirked as he watched Maka's emerald eyes light up with hope, the girl smashing her shoulder against the doors._

 _"We're getting out of here!" Maka threw herself against the door repeatedly. "Open up!"_

 _Crona resurfaced slightly from his craziness as he brought Ragnaroc back up, holding the sword up as high as he could. "That's not going to work, you know." He looked at the frightened duo sadly as Ragnaroc screamed loudly, building up a strong sound wave length. Crona sighed, wishing that people listened to him sometimes. "You should start paying attention to the things other people say."_

 _Maka's pupils were shaking dots in a sea of green, standing out starkly against her bone-pale skin. "Oh no…"_

 _Crona tried one last time to help the pair. "The doors here only open one way! They open inward." His silver eyes dimmed as he saw that Maka was too scared to understand his prompt, her breath shaky as she stared at him._

 _"MAKA! STOP HIM NOW!" Soul roared, Crona close enough to see the reflected image of the Weapon in the Scythe blade, his crimson eyes wide with fear. But the fear wasn't for himself, it was for his Maister._

 _Crona wanted to go hide in a corner as Maka yelped back, "But Soul, if I guard, you'll die!" Crona couldn't take all of his conflicting emotions anymore, just wanting the confusion to stop. He swung the blade down, Ragnaroc surrounded by violet sound energy as he tore down to slice through Maka's soft-looking skin…_

 _KERSPLASH!_

 _A large gush of crimson splashed against Crona's cheek and dress, scarlet flying through the air in every direction. Crona's head was full of so many conflicting emotions that it felt like it was about to explode, as he stared at the body in front of him, a weeping wound slashed across their chest._

 _No. That couldn't possibly be right. This was wrong, it had to be. His eye twitched spasmodically, an insane smile flitting on and off of his lips. Wrong, wrong, wrongwrongwrong! Soul stood protectively in front of Maka, arms flung wide. He had changed back right as Crona had swung down, taking the blow meant for his Maister. WRONG WRONG WRONG! No one cared that much for anyone else, it wasn't possible! No, no no. If normal people cared for each other, then his mother should- no. This was wrong. This had to be wrong. Maka's green eyes were full of horrified terror for her Weapon, yet another thing that was wasn't possible. This was all part of his insanity. It was, it was it was. Crona sighed in relief, a small smile twitching one end of his mouth up. Yeah, that was right. This was all in his head, just a weird twerk of his madness. That's it. He was a freak of a monster, the only Maister in the world that cared about his Weapon's safety, with a mother who was normal in her disdain for him, who deserved to be experimented and tortured, and he had black blood._

 _Soul hadn't just protected Maka by absorbing the killing blow that had been meant for choked gasp that the girl let out wasn't fear for her Weapon. They didn't care for each other in any other way than professional respect, if that._

 _Crona raised the blade up again, silver eyes dancing with insanity as he prepared to kill Maka, this time successfully. He accidentally locked gazes with the girl, Soul's blood trickling down her cheek. In her eyes, he saw exactly who he was; a black-clad, blood-spattered, crazy freak who was smiling like a monster as he prepared to sink his Sword into her chest. Overwhelming anger shone out foremost, accompanied with sorrow, pain and fear, all swirling in her green eyes._

He had seen that look again on her face in the apartment, and it was ripping his delicate heart as Crona staggered to got to his feet and stumbled back to the Academy, numbly absorbing the sharp pinch as Ragnaroc popped out of his back. It actually felt good, the pain distracting him for a second from the whirling throbs of his thoughts. Crona ignored his Weapon's rude comments as he dragged himself up the eighty-eight stairs of the school, plodding mindlessly through the halls. His mind still stayed distant as a small group of older teens gathered around him, not noticing as they gently herded him down a deserted hall even though Ragnaroc was cursing up a storm on his head and pounding on his head frantically.

Crona only somewhat came back to himself when he was thrown harshly into a wall, harsh laughter accompanying the shock. He looked up to see about six or seven teens high-five each other before walking off, leaving three behind. One was actually in Crona's class, a girl who sat three seats behind him, while the other two were in the class for the less advanced Meisters and Weapons. They were the only bullies that Crona knew by name. The girl in his class was a Weapon called Avery Windhold, while the two boys were a Meister and Weapon team; the Weapon a boy called Sam Tyson, the Maister's name being Hayden Vale.

"Wassup, fa-reaky?" Sam asked, the other two smirking in amusement. "Whatcha' doin' down there?"

"You p-pushed me." Crona said emotionlessly, staring blankly up at the three older teens.

"I pushed you? Fa-reaky, you need to pay more attention. I haven't touched you…yet." Sam chuckled as he snapped a finger against Crona's nose. "Now I have officially touched you."

"Boom, dude!" Hayden grinned, knuckle bumping his Weapon partner.

"So, Crona. We heard that you've gotten into a little disagreement with your girlfriend. Wanna tell us what went wrong in paradise?" Avery asked, leaning against the wall beside him.

Crona laughed bitterly, thinking that paradise was the last place he would ever be in. "She's n-not my girlfriend."

"Ohhhh… boom!" Hayden didn't say much else, at least not whenever Crona had been around him.

"Can't blame ya, fa-reaky. She ain't all that. And have you seen how flat she is? Making out with her would be like makin' out with a dude." Sam patted Crona's cheek patronizingly, the gesture hitting a little harder than absolutely comfortable. "Plus, she can be a real bitch. Those 'Maka-chops' of hers-"

Crona growled dangerously and slid up the wall into a standing position, grabbing the front of Sam's shirt and pulling him in close. "Never, ever call Maka a b-b-" his voice broke, Crona unable to finish the word. " . . Do you understand?"

"Yeah, fuck you bastards!" Ragnaroc chimed in, Crona shooting his Weapon a grateful glance.

Sam's face was white, the Weapon's hands shaking as he tried unsuccessfully to break Crona's grasp. "G-get him!"

Crona was slammed into the wall, head cracking painfully against the hard surface. He blacked out momentarily, but that was all the time that the three bullies needed to drag him into a nearby room, locking the doors behind them. Hayden and Avery pinned him to one of the walls, holding him steady as Sam approached, eyes dark with adrenaline-fueled anger. He smashed a flurry of punches into Crona's stomach, though the attacks were actually being appreciated at the moment, serving to distract Crona from his dark thoughts. "How do you like that, huh, fa-reaky? Well?"

Crona spat out a mouthful of black blood and intentionally aimed for Sam's shirt, making the other boy curse angrily. "The hell, you bastard!" Crona smirked as his head cracked to the side from the force of the punch it received, the pain keeping his mind firmly in the present.

Avery studied him as Crona was beaten, a frown on her face. Finally, she nodded to Hayden, both letting Crona fall to the floor. She walked over to whisper into Sam's ear, the buff boy's shoulders heaving after the strenuous exercise that was thrashing Crona. He had been scowling, fists clenched, but as she spoke to him he started grinning. "Sweetness." Walking over to where Crona lay, coughing up thick globs of black blood onto the floor, Sam knelt on his throat. Crona's eyes widened as he struggled to breath, weakly pushing against the other boy's knee. Sam bent over, ignoring the fact that that put even more weight on Crona's neck, and whispered into his ear. "You know how I said earlier that making out with Albarn would be like making out with a dude? I'm thinking about testing that theory. Ya see, I got this sneaky suspicion that Albarn makes up for her boyish figure with a lot of agility and energy, if ya know what I mean." Crona snarled, glaring up at the muscle-bound boy on top of him. Sam chuckled, tapping Crona's nose playfully. "Aw, I'm sorry. Are you upset that I'm talking about fucking your girlfriend?"Crona pushed up hard enough to send Sam rocking back a step, the older boy flinching momentarily before smirking. "Yes you are, fa-reak!"

"Sh-she's not… my g-girlfriend!" Crona insisted, refusing to burden Maka's reputation further by tying her down on his level by close association.

"Yeah… you said that earlier, fa-reaky. Seemed pretty dead set on it, too, didn't he?"

"Boom, man!"

"Maybe Albarn finally saw you for the monster you really are, hmm?" Avery said, leaning over to wiggle her eyebrows at him.

Crona burst out laughing, the three bullies backing up quickly as he sat up, hugging himself tightly. "Th-that's right, she did!" He slowly got to his feet, starting to shake with uncontrollable hysteric laughter. "I've expected this e-ever since she f-first hugged me, a-after all, I'm n-nothing more than a freak, r-right? W-why would someone as nice as M-Maka ever bec-come friends with a murderer l-like me? I'm p-pretty sure that it's p-pity; an angel w-would only sh-show kindness t-to a demon out of p-pity. B-but even knowing that th-this was inevitable, it still h-hurts, you know? I c-can't deal with m-myself, but I r-really want t-to deal with you." He looked up, silver eyes flashing with pain. "M-maybe if I st-stop trying to be s-someone that everyone kn-knows I'm n-not, I'll f-finally be right, you know? Instead of the wrong th-that I've always been."

He held his hand out. "R-Ragnaroc, let's p-play."

Ragnaroc sighed, arms folded. "Damn it, I hate being the responsible one. WAKE THE HELL UP, CRONA! I want to kill these bastards just as much as you do, but I can't let you give up your little slice of home over these pieces of shit. Let's just get out of here."

Raven appeared in his shadow. "Hello, Crona. Do you want to play? It looks like you do."

Crona giggled, feeling torn beyond all fixing. "If you don't want to help, Ragnaroc, then go away!" Ragnaroc flinched and shlurped back into Crona's upper back, while Raven nodded and faded away.

"Check it out, freaky." Sam smirked nervously, cracking his knuckles in what was probably supposed to be an intimidating manner, but just managed to make him look constipated. "Even your own body is deserting you!"

Crona grinned crookedly at his three bullies, letting his entire body relax as he got ready to deal a little damage back. "Giving up already? That's probably a good idea. After all, we outnumber you, I have more muscle than you do, and two of us are Weapons while yours just abandoned you." Avery said, looking relieved.

Crona tilted his head, gazing unfeelingly at them. "Mm." Contrary to popular belief, he was actually lean with muscle, the various experiments that Lady Medusa had performed on him making it so that his muscles stayed small but just as strong as any of the giant muscle-bound jocks. Other experiments that had better results had given him his extraordinary speed, along with the ability to go from a complete stand-still directly into a full out run. Crona demonstrated his last talent, speeding forward to crack an elbow under Sam's ribcage. Sam fell to the floor, crimson dripping from his lips as he wheezed.

Hayden roared and swung a fist at Crona, the lavender-haired Maister easily blocking the attack with one wrist and tiger-fisting him in the sternum. Hayden smashed into the wall, slumping to the ground with an agonized groan. Avery paled as Crona turned to her, still smiling madly despite the fact that he was sadly sane. She turned and ran out the door, Crona letting her leave. "After all, I'm no good with girls, right?" He considered torturing his former tormentors, but decided against it, just wanting to curl up in his room.

When he got back to his room, the cat was still in his room, curled up comfortably on his bed. Crona grabbed his pillow, sketchbook and pencil, sliding into his corner before beginning to draw. As his pencil swirled around on the page, Crona went into a slightly calmer state. As he shaded in some lines on his picture, a knock came on the door, startling him. Crona set his sketchbook on his table before going to answer the knock. He opened his door, only to come face-to-face with Spirit. Crona yelped and stepped back, surprised. "M-Mister Spirit?"

Spirit gave him a peculiar look, almost sad solemnity. "Maka really likes you, kiddo."

Crona stared at his feet, hand reaching over to grab his arm. "No. She doesn't." Thinking on what he had done to his attackers, Crona blanched. "I'm k-kind of glad. Y-you should be, t-too. B-but Maka's g-going to be glad t-to hear that you're up and a-able to walk around." As Crona walked across his room, he muttered to himself, "Again."

"What?"

Crona snapped. "What have you been doing? You can't tell me that you've been in bed, because I've seen you walking around. I saw when you messed with Lord Death's tea bags, then when you were exchanging pills in one of those bottles-"

Spirit had gone bone white, hands clenching and his blue eyes turning golden white.

"Why! Just… why?" Crona asked, feeling tired as he ran one hand through his hair.

"Because. Lord Death is an evil monster who deserves to suffer for all of the horrible things he's done." Spirit growled, fists slamming into the wall. "I couldn't just lay there knowing that my baby girl was going in to see that… animal, every single day. She idolizes him, did you know?" Spirit had tears rolling down his cheeks now as he spoke. "A murderous beast who sends innocent children to do his dirty work, and my precious daughter loves him. Thinks that the world revolves around him." Spirit straightened, turning to face Crona. "Maka already lost her mother. She doesn't need to lose her faith in her headmaster as well. If he just died of natural causes, I would be satisfied and Maka would eventually get over his demise."

Crona took a step back, a spike of fear stabbing through him. "B-but you're his most trusted W-Weapon! I th-thought that you liked him."

Spirit's eyes flickered momentarily, flashing their regular blue before returning to the steady golden white. "Th-that's not right. I am a Weapon, but I would never work for Lord Death." Spirit shook his head firmly, gaze falling on Crona. "Anyway, like I was saying. Maka really likes you, anyone can see that. I've seen how she looks at you, it's the same way I used to look at her mother." Spirit sighed sadly before walking into the room, the door clicking shut behind him. "I even like you, and I haven't liked anyone that Maka 'likes'… ever, really." He set a hand on Crona's shoulder, patting it gently. "I really wish that you had just gone with your friends to investigate my attack, Crona. But you didn't, and you saw things you shouldn't have." Crona's silver eyes widened in panic and he tried to back up, but Spirit's hand grabbed his shoulder in an iron grasp, the other hand slamming him up against the wall by his neck. The last thing that Crona saw as his oxygen supply ran out was Spirit's golden white eyes, full of sad pity as Crona's vision went black.


	11. Chapter 11 - Disappearance and a Dragon

**ChapterEleven**  
Maka's POV

Maka ran up the stairs of the DWMA, hoping that Crona had returned to his room. Usually whenever the timid boy got really upset he would run back in his room and huddle in the corner, but since Maka knew where he hid and she was the reason he was upset, Crona may have gone somewhere else to calm down. Maka had already made a very quick canvas of the streets around her apartment building, which had taken longer than she had expected. She trotted down the halls, craning her neck to keep an eye out for his notable light lavender hair or crisp white uniform. "You!" A buff boy snarled the word out like a curse, his large hand wrapping around her throat and lifting her off of the ground. "Where the hell is your little pink-haired freak of a boyfriend, Albarn?" Behind him, another boy and a girl that Maka distantly remembered from class stood there, both scowling at her.

Maka jabbed the muscular boy in the nerves of his armpit, forcing him to drop her. "If you want to engage in a duel, the proper protocol is to challenge me or Crona verbally. Don't ever touch me like that again, and don't call Crona a freak."

"She talks a lot like pinky." The girl sneered nastily at Maka, arms folded firmly across her chest.

"Boom!" The second boy cheered, making his hands fly apart like an explosion.

"I'm going to rip fa-reaky to shreds the next time I see him," the first boy seethed, the fingers of his left hand shifting into small knives. "Next time, I won't let him up until he begs for mercy, the little twerp!"

"What are you talking about?"Maka asked, getting a bad feeling and a strong suspicion.

"Fa-reaky attacked us! Hit me in the stomach, and socked Hayden there in the chest."

Hayden nodded solemnly, wincing as he coughed, scarlet staining his palm as he covered his mouth.

"Crona wouldn't attack without provocation." Maka said suspiciously, eyeing the three. "You wouldn't happen to have been bullying him, would you?"

All three blanched, confirming Maka's theory. "What the hell do you take us for? Monsters like him? Yeah, right. And even if we had, that freak would have had it coming."

Maka poked the buff boy on his chest, giving him a dirty look. "If I ever hear that any of you have been picking on Crona again, I'll take this up with Lord Death." She turned away and started to walk off, when a thought occurred to her. "Are you the reason that he was covered in bruises?"

"No. I wish we were, though. That monster shouldn't be here, and you should be ashamed of yourself for associating with him." The girl flipped Maka off as the trio stormed away, the two boys holding their torsos gingerly.

Maka jogged on down to Crona's room, the hall darker than usual as she trotted down the stone steps to his dungeon-like room. She had tried to talk to Lord Death and her father about either getting Crona an apartment room in the building that she and Soul lived in or letting him move in with them, that way she could still keep an eye on him and he could get out of these depressing surroundings, but they kept putting it off. Maka told herself that it was high time she cornered her dad while he wasn't able to move, that way he couldn't escape but she still could if Spirit got too clingy. She finally got to Crona's room, knocking softly on the large door. "Crona?" There was no reply, which wasn't surprising. He usually took a while to respond when he was upset, Crona having started to try and hide his tears since she had told him that seeing him in pain hurt her. "Crona, I'm sorry about what I said. I was upset, and I took it out on you. May I please come in?" Still nothing. The absence of a response began to worry Maka, and she knocked again. "Crona?"

The door clicked open, light streaming into the hall. Maka sighed in relief, quickly walking into his Spartan-like room. "Crona, I'm really sorry-" She cut herself off and gaped at Blair, the pretty woman changing back into her cat form. Maka frowned as she felt a small twinge of what felt like jealousy wriggle in the pit of her stomach, immediately pushing that thought into the furthest corner of her mind. "What the heck are you doing in here, Blair?"

"I _was_ enjoying a nice nap, nyaow." Blair stretched luxuriously on Crona's bed before sitting and yawning at Maka. Maka's eye twitched unconsciously as the blond Maister tried to figure out what the cat was doing in Crona's room.

"Where's Crona?"

"I don't know. He came back in here about a half an hour ago, looking all upset, and started drawing in the corner over there. Twenty minutes later, someone knocked at his door. I kinda fell asleep then, so I don't know what happened, but ever since then he's been gone. I thought he had just left to see you." Blair looked a little concerned, but was rapidly falling asleep as she spoke.

Maka glanced around the room, her eyes falling on the chest under Crona's bed where he kept all of his belongings. Pulling it out, she found that his sketchbook was missing. Since Crona almost never let his sketchbook leave his room, and he always put it back away when he was finished, Maka found this development worrying. The only two options that were open at this point were that Crona had either left his drawing paper in his room somewhere, or he had taken it with him wherever he had gone. As she couldn't see the book anywhere in his painfully bare and neat room, he must have taken it with him.

She left Blair snoozing on Crona's bed, walking on up the stairs as she brainstormed on what to do next. Maka was so lost in thought that she walked straight into Professor Stein, the mad scientist pacing agitatedly on the stairwell spinning his giant screw tight as he stared at his clipboard. "This doesn't make any sense!" he muttered to himself, not appearing to notice Maka at all, even though she had just bumped into him. "If only I could dissect Lord Death, then maybe I could figure this out…"

"Hello, Professor."

"Hm? Oh. Good evening, Maka." Stein seemed highly distracted, eyes darting back to his clipboard.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm just fine." Stein's mind was definitely somewhere else, his gray eyes snapping back to her as she coughed politely. "Oh, I'm sorry. What were we talking about?"

Should she or shouldn't she? Maka decided to try a dirty trick of Soul's. "The results there." She pointed to the clipboard that had him so agitated, Stein looking slightly skeptical.

"Really? Hm. I need to pay more attention to what I say; I don't seem to remember our conversation at all." He shrugged. "In any case, to sum it up, Lord Death has apparently caught the common cold."

"Why are you so upset? That shouldn't be too bad."

Stein tapped his clipboard. "But the problem is, shinigami can't get viruses like the common cold, it's just not possible. They have special enzymes in their blood that protects them against small bugs."

Maka frowned, seeing the quandary. "How is he?"

Stein grinned, pulling a cigarette out of a pocket. "Grumpy."

She winced sympathetically. "That bad, huh?"  
"Yup. But I simply cannot understand how his immune system failed. Even the weakest shinigami should be able to hold off common illnesses, and Lord Death is in his prime!"

"Maka?" Soul clomped down the stairs, pausing to give Professor Stein a half salute. "'Sup, Professor?"

"Good evening, Soul." Stein turned back to Maka and whispered into her ear, "Remember not to spread this around the school. It would actually be appreciated if you didn't even share this information with Soul or your other friends." Leaning back, Stein spoke in his regular voice. "Oh, that reminds me. Have either of you seen Crona? Spirit wanted to talk to him, but I haven't been able to find the boy anywhere."

"Actually, I was looking for Crona myself." Maka said, looking at the floor.

"So was I." Soul admitted, making Maka look up at him in confusion. He caught her glance and shrugged. "I had asked him to go and talk to you, since you've been acting so uncool. I figured that he was probably hiding out in his room instead, so I was headed down there."

Maka nodded slowly, realizing that Soul was probably the reason that the timid teen had dared to venture out of the school in the first place. "He actually did come and talk with me, but I lost my temper and yelled at him. Crona ran off, and I've been trying to find him and apologize ever since."

"I'll go and ask Marie if he went to talk with her." Stein offered, striding off quickly.

"Let's go talk with the gang, see if any of them have seen him." Soul said, walking back up the stairs.

"Blair said that he was in his room at least ten minutes ago, and I noticed that his sketchbook is missing."

"So… what? You think he went off to draw something? And what the heck is Blair doing here at school? Doesn't she freak Crona out?"

Maka frowned and clenched her gloved fists, trying unsuccessfully to quell the resurging sense of jealousy against the cat. "I don't know, but that is definitely something I plan on asking Crona when we find him."

Ragnaroc's POV

Ragnaroc was going out of his mind with worry, seeing as both Crona and Rude were unconscious and not looking as though they were going to wake up any time soon. At the moment he was more concerned with Rude than Crona, since Crona had been strangled until he lost consciousness, which meant that Spirit didn't want the Maister dead. Rude on the other hand had just suddenly collapsed about ten minutes after Crona had passed out, which didn't make any sense since both Ragnarocs were inside their mind room which was somewhere that _seemed_ like it would be safe.

Ragnaroc had lightly slapped Rude's face, shaken him, and had even held him up by his ankles and bounced around, but Rude was stubbornly persevering in staying unconscious. Finally, Ragnaroc gave up and picked the shorter boy up, carrying him into his room. Usually, for whatever reason, Ragnaroc wasn't able to enter 'Rude's' room even though technically it was his room too, but through reluctant {on Rude's side} experimentation they had found that when they were in indirect contact with each other Ragnaroc was able to join Rude in his room. Ragnaroc gently set Rude down on the red-sheeted bed, the shorter boy's comical head lolling back onto the soft black pillows.

He tugged his white gloves off, stuffing them in a pocket. Anytime that Ragnaroc touched Rude, they made sure to not let their skin touch; otherwise they would be forced to share the other's memories.

The room was pretty big and well lit; several lamps and dragon-shaped nightlights aiding the overhead ceiling fan, which only gave off a dim glow. An over-stuffed hamper was stuffed in a corner, the mound of red, black and grey clothes barely contained in the black plastic bin. A dark wood desk sat to the right of the clothes hamper, a large mass of magazines, books, weapons, and even a few collars piled on the table's surface. Beside the door, a large chest of drawers had been set against the wall, several silver and wood dragon figurines placed carefully on the smooth top, their images reflected in the large black-framed mirror that hung directly above the chest of drawers. Large paintings of dark woodland scenes, dragons, and sword-bearing heroes dotted his grey painted walls, while various weapons and magazines littered his black-carpeted floor.

All in all, Ragnaroc had to admit that it was really nice to be back in his old room. Rude had only let him back in about three times over the past ten or eleven years, but this place still looked exactly the same as it had when he wasn't stuck inside his young Maister's head. Ragnaroc smirked, thinking that the way it looked was like a dump. However, that wasn't entirely Rude's fault, since everything basically went flying back to the spot that it had been removed from when one of the Ragnaroc's weren't touching them after about a five-minute delay.

Plopping back into the black leather upholstered chair, Ragnaroc swiveled to poke through the mess of books and magazines, pulling out 'Eragon' by Christopher Paolini. Now there was a book that he enjoyed, {which was pretty obvious by all of the dog-eared pages}, the quick-moving plot full of magic, sword-fights, hot girls, and, of course, dragons. Flipping through the book that he already practically knew by memory, it suddenly occurred to him that it didn't make any sense for him to enjoy reading about magic as much as he did, since magic had basically destroyed his life. Ragnaroc frowned, feeling that there was something there just barely out of his mental reach, knowing that he could almost remember what it was…

THUD! Ragnaroc jumped to his feet and spun, only to see that Rude had somehow managed to fall off of the bed, smash into the bedside table, knock a few of the small silver dragon figurines onto himself, and still somehow stay unconscious. Sighing and shaking his head with a soft smile, Ragnaroc picked the shorter boy up and set him back in the center of the bed again, flopping back onto his bed with a second sigh. Staring up at the ceiling, Ragnaroc cracked up as he caught sight of a few pages from dirty magazines that he remembered tacking up a long time ago, the thought crossing his mind that if Crona ever caught sight of these he would probably go into a panic attack. "And yet they're in the poor kid's head. Oh, the irony."

Ragnaroc relaxed for a few moments, wondering if there were any differences in his room since it had become Rude's. His mind drifted, going back to a memory that he had recently remembered.

 _"Told you, that's my room."_

 _Ragnaroc winced as he got back up to his feet, glaring at the comical figure."No, it's mine!"_

 _"Oh yeah?" Rude didn't look convinced, folding his arms and glaring right back."Prove it!"_

 _Ragnaroc scowled, thinking. "Well, behind the door there should be a chest of drawers, right?"_

 _Rude smirked nastily, x eyes closing momentarily in pain as Crona convulsed on the table with a soft moan. "For that being your room, you don't sound so sure of yourself." He sighed, eye cracking open to fix Ragnaroc with a reluctant gaze. "But yeah, there is."_

 _"The third drawer has a fake back, where I keep all of my most prized memories."_

Ragnaroc pulled himself up, walking over to the chest of drawers and opening the third drawer. A few half-folded shirts had been crammed in haphazardly, along with a crumpled pair of boxers and an iron dagger. Digging past them, he pushed a slight depression in the top left corner, a door sliding open in the back of the drawer as he did so. Ragnaroc reached in and pulled out a small wooden box, iron and silver swirling through the dark wood in the shapes of dragons.

The first thing in the box was a very clumsy drawing of three figures; a short purple-headed blob, a tall black and red stick figure, and a short, long black scribble. Ragnaroc smirked at Crona's early handiwork, the lines highly inexperienced. He smiled sadly as he pulled a small bag full of lumps of colored glass out of the box next. Ragnaroc's hand clenched tightly around the plastic, tears welling up in his eyes as his thumb ran over the smooth clumps.

 _"Ragnerrock! Com'ere, com'ere!" Ragnaroc trotted over to where Crona was standing, the little boy's cries alarming the teen. "Whazzat?"_

 _Ragnaroc smiled at the toddler before ruffling his pale violet hair. "Dude, that's a branch."_

 _"B-but it looks like a snake!"_

 _Ragnaroc picked the large stick up and showed it to the cringing toddler. "That doesn't mean it's not a branch. Here."_

 _Crona backed up, arms waving wildly. "No, no! You always tell me not to touch snakes 'cause they're dang-ier-ously."_

 _"Dangerous. And you shouldn't. But this isn't a snake." Ragnaroc internally smirked, then gave the little boy the saddest expression he could. "Don't you trust me, Crona?"_

 _Crona's pale silver eyes widened as he bit his lip, the younger boy looking torn. "'Course, but-"_

 _Ragnaroc spoke over his young Maister. "Good. Now, take it and deal with your fear."_

 _Crona started to object again, then his entire body just… sagged. "O-okay." He reached out one trembling hand, pale fingers wrapping tremulously around the rough bark. Ragnaroc watched as his large silver eyes slowly darkened to a dark blackish-grey momentarily as Crona realized that the feared object really wasn't a snake, then they lightened to a cheerful silvery-blue. "Look Ragnerrock! I'm holding a snakey-stick!"_

 _Ragnaroc smirked openly, pulling the boy into a headlock and giving his Maister a light noogie."Ragnerrock, dat hurts! Stoppit!"_

 _He released Crona, who immediately took off running down the sandy shores. "Hey, Crona!"_

 _The boy stopped and looked back. "Yeah?"_

 _"Don't go in the water unless I'm there with you, got it, shrimp?"_

 _"Yup! 'Kay!" Crona continued on his path beside the lapping water, giggling whenever the clear liquid washed over his toes. Ragnaroc spread a soft red blanket out on the sand, digging around in the canvas gym bag that he had brought with them. He winced as he pulled out a bottle of sunscreen, hating wearing the thick cream. With a heavy sigh, Ragnaroc called the toddler back over._

 _As Crona trotted over, Ragnaroc growled softly and squirted a generous glob of white paste into his hand and began to spread it over his exposed skin, trying to set a good example. "Here. Put some on." Crona obeyed, awkwardly smearing the gunk over his already pale skin. Ragnaroc finished applying white goo to Crona's back before he let the boy go back to his explorations._

 _Ragnaroc had started to doze, eyes shutting in contentment at the warm rays curling against his stomach, when Crona yelped in fright. "Ragnerrock! Ragnerrock!"_

 _Ragnaroc was at the young boy's side in an instant, arm Shifting into its blade form. "What's wrong?"_

 _Crona hid behind Ragnaroc's legs, one quivering finger pointing to where small bubbles were popping up from the watery sand. "The beach is breaving!"_

 _Ragnaroc sighed in relief, chuckling at his little charge's fright. "Crona, there are small creatures that burrow under the sand to trap insects and stuff like that in their holes. That bubbling is just them breathing, or keeping the water out, I don't remember which." His brow furrowed in confusion as Crona's grip on his leg only tightened. "What's wrong?"_

 _"There're creatures under the sand?" Crona's voice was terrified, Ragnaroc mentally kicking himself as he realized what was bothering the toddler. He knelt down, using the tip of his blade arm to dig up one of the holes, unearthing a tiny wriggling sea creature._

 _"Hold out your hands." Crona frowned but did so, storm-grey eyes worried. Ragnaroc tilted the blade, letting the sand and the small creature slide into Crona's cupped hands. "This is what they all look like." Crona yelped momentarily as the little crustacean squirmed and writhed in his palms, but he quickly became enamored with it, going on a search for more. Ragnaroc chuckled and shook his head, amused at how quickly Crona's emotions could change._

 _Eventually, after Crona had accumulated a small pile of crustaceans and Ragnaroc had taken a short nap in the rays of the chuckling sun, Ragnaroc taught Crona how to swim. Ragnaroc was slightly surprised when, after the first half hour of awkwardly wild splashing and yelping proclamations that he was drowning, Crona began to swim almost as well as Ragnaroc. And Ragnaroc could swim like a fish, so that was really saying something._

 _They swam around for a while, Ragnaroc finally getting out to dry off. He kept a cautious eye on the smaller boy as he began to pull their lunch out of the gym bag, setting the multiple containers out on the crimson fabric. "Hey, Crona! Come on and dry off before lunch!"_

 _"Awww!" Crona gave Ragnaroc huge silver puppy dog eyes, a hint of a whine in the toddler's voice. "Can't I stay out a little longer, Ragnerrock?"_

 _"Nope, but you can go back in later." Crona pouted cutely as he slowly headed back to shore, struggling to walk through the shallow water without falling over. Ragnaroc jumped to his feet and raced over as Crona screamed in terror, falling back into the water and thrashing helplessly. Ragnaroc grabbed the boy out of the two or three foot deep water and trotted back to the blanket, patting Crona's back as the toddler coughed up swallowed water._

 _"You okay?"_

 _Crona buried his head in Ragnaroc's shoulder, shivering in fear. "There's something out there in the water, I saw it! It was black and scaly and sharp and scary …"_

 _"Hey, hey, little dude. Calm down, it's okay." Ragnaroc wrapped him in a black towel, setting him on the blanket. "I'll go check it out, and if it's anything bad…" He Shifted his hand, showing the black blade to Crona. "I won't let anything bad happen to you, I promise." Ragnaroc patted the shaking toddler on his head before walking back out. He had a strong suspicion that what Crona had seen was going to end up being a large chunk of driftwood, but Ragnaroc didn't want to be wrong. Peering through the clouded waters, he finally caught sight of something moving in the water, something black momentarily breaking the surface before sinking back down. Ragnaroc let his left hand Shift, his right hand plunging down to grab whatever he had just seen. His questing fingers touched smooth scales, and he had to Shift his bladed left hand back to help him pull out a … light, black, scaly bundle of some sort of animal, Ragnaroc unable to distinguish what it was as it contorted weakly in his arms. Wading back to the boy on the blanket, he pulled out a second black towel, wrapping the odd creature up in the soft fabric._

 _After a few minutes of squeaks from both the bundle of cloth and a curious Crona, a black scaled head poked out tentatively from the folds of the towel, crimson eyes peering quizzically at both boys. A loud seagull screeched overhead, and the head instantly yanked back with a sharp yelp. "Whazzat?" Crona asked him, Ragnaroc shrugging as he slowly pulled the towel away from the creature._

 _"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out in a minute." With a final tug, the obsidian animal rolled out onto the blanket, squeaking in alarm as it scrambled to get back on its feet. Ragnaroc's eyes widened as they looked the creature over; a black-scaled lizard, dark clumps clinging to its back which now unfolded and flapped clumsilyto reveal that they were wings. "Oh, no way!" Ragnaroc began to grin, Crona tugging lightly on his shirt sleeve._

 _"What's going on?"_

 _"Check it out, dude! I think that you found a baby dragon!"_

 _Crona stared at the little dragon, about a foot in length and seven or eight inches tall. "Wow."_

 _Ragnaroc took a slice of bread from their lunch, breaking it into smaller pieces and offering one to the dragon. It sniffed the limp bread for a while before grabbing it and gobbling it down in under a second. "Careful there, little one. Don't want you to choke."_

 _"C-can I try?" Crona asked, looking hopefully up at Ragnaroc._

 _"Sure. Just be careful to keep your fingers out of the way." Ragnaroc gave Crona one of the slightly larger pieces of bread, making sure that the younger boy heeded his warning. Crona's eyes darkened from pale silver to the blue silver that showed that he was happy or relaxed as he watched the baby dragon munch the chunk that he had given it._

 _By the time that a half an hour had passed, the little dragon had begun to play with the two boys, prancing happily around in the sun. It quickly became apparent that it had imprinted on them, following them wherever they went. The dragon wasn't aggressive at all, its temperament apparently gentle. There was a short moment of stress when it proved that it could breathe fire, Crona unfortunately happening to have been in the path of the short burst of flame._

 _"Owww!" Ragnaroc comforted the sobbing boy as he cradled a slightly scorched finger, the skin a little red and apparently tender. The dragon was cowering behind the gym bag, having scurried there after Crona's loud cry of pain, but it began to slowly creep forward. Ragnaroc had a feeling that if the dragon had been a dog, its tail would have been tucked and its ears would have been flattened. It finally reached Ragnaroc's knee, letting out a soft whimper as it lightly pawed Crona's shorts._

 _"Crona, it looks like the little one wants to apologize." Crona didn't reply, turning his head into Ragnaroc's chest. "Come on, accept its apology."_

 _Crona looked over at the baby dragon, the dragon's red eyes gazing back at him in worried carefully reached out, relaxing slightly as the baby dragon pushed its head against his hand. Ragnaroc smiled as the two made up, grinning as the dragon crawled up to sit on Crona's lap, who was sitting on his lap. Suddenly the little dragon scrambled to get off of Crona's lap, falling down onto the sand before letting a sharp flicker of crimson flame flare out of its mouth to the golden grains below. It let out a soft burp before padding back up onto Crona's lap, curling up like a contented cat. Ragnaroc blinked as he saw that where the flames had hit the sand, a shiny glob of scarlet glass had formed. He waited for a few minutes before picking up the still-hot blob, marveling at the smooth surface. "That's pretty, can I hold it?" Ragnaroc chuckled and handed the glass to Crona._

 _"Careful, it's hot." The boy nodded and let the small globule drop into the fabric of his shorts._

 _Over the next little while, they found out that different foods made the dragon produce different colored flames, all three having fun with that. Finally, it was time for them to head back to the mansion._

 _"Can we take it home with us?" Crona asked, both the toddler and the baby dragon giving him huge puppy dog eyes. "Pleeeeeeeease?"_

 _Ragnaroc pretended to think about it, frowning and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I dunno… It doesn't even have a name." He knelt down to look the dragon in its red eyes. "What would we call this little one?"_

 _"Why don't we call it the 'Little One'? That's what you've been calling it all day." Crona suggested, grinning as Ragnaroc ruffled his hair._

 _"All right, the Little One he shall be. Now I have two little ones in my life, what on earth am I supposed to do with you?"_

 _"Give us a piggy-back ride home, please?" Ragnaroc groaned theatrically before nodding._

 _"Oh, all right. Up you go!" Crona picked up the newly-dubbed Little One and climbed up onto Ragnaroc's shoulders, whooping as Ragnaroc jumped to his feet. Ragnaroc laughed evilly as he grabbed Crona's legs and proceeded to shake and bounce around, Crona howling with laughter as he enjoyed the spastic ride._

Ragnaroc set the small bag back down, moving on to look at some photos when Rude moaned, making Ragnaroc jump somewhat guiltily and stick all of the objects back in the box, stuffing the box back into the hiding spot, and slamming the hiding spot and drawer shut. Trotting over to Rude's bed, he stuck a soft pillow under the comical boy's head. "What the hell happened to my head, you bastard?" Rude's words were slurred and almost unintelligible from pain, one ball hand slowly going up to his head.

"I don't know. I'm glad you're up though, I was starting to get worried."

"Fuck…" Ragnaroc watched worriedly as Rude sat up groggily, looking half out of it as he staggered over to the door. Ragnaroc hurried over to support him as Rude almost fell.

"Dude, you need to go back to bed!"

Rude made a rude looking gesture in his direction, leaning heavily on Ragnaroc's shoulder. "My fucking head feels like someone took a damn sledgehammer to it..." Suddenly Ragnaroc felt Rude stiffen against him, x eyes flashing open wide. "Crona!" Rude scrambled forward, half-falling through the door that took him out into the physical world.

Ragnaroc's face drained as Rude was forced back into the room through the door, something that had never happened before. Rude always went out through the door, and he always came back in through the ceiling. He never came back in through the door or out through the ceiling, it just wasn't possible. Rude cursed loudly before staggering back through the door, the short figure managing to stay out this time.  
The screen showing what Rude saw flashed on, catching Ragnaroc's attention. He frowned at the fact that Rude's vision was blurry and spotted, wishing that he knew how to get Rude to come back in and relax for a while before he passed out again.

Rude was sticking up out of Crona's chest, something that didn't happen very often because Crona wasn't able to see very well around Rude's head and upper torso, both boys having ended up preferring Rude to protrude from Crona's back where Rude could still move around comfortably and Crona could see clearly.

Crona was lying on a metal table, sturdy leather straps running across his ankles, thighs, wrists and stomach, upper arms and chest, and teen Maister didn't appear to be physically wounded and Rude hadn't had any injuries, but that was about the end of their good news. Crona was out cold and strapped to a table in a dark room, Rude was groggy and disoriented, and Ragnaroc was frustrated at his inability to do anything to help either of them.

A door in the room opened, the bright light flooding in making Rude wince, stars flashing in his eyes. When Rude managed to open his x eyes again, both he and Ragnaroc flinched at the shock of seeing a tall figure that was standing in front of the table Crona was strapped to. A smaller flash of light reflected off of something metallic in the figure's hand, both Ragnaroc's watching as it sank into Rude's arm. As the screen went black, Ragnaroc saw the blurred figure nod in satisfaction.

Ragnaroc waited, but Rude didn't fall back into the mind room unconscious or otherwise, and now none of the screens were on. That was very rare, since the screen that showed Crona's thoughts usually showed his dreams whenever he was unconscious. Ragnaroc began to pace the length of the mind room, worried thoughts running through his mind…

Unknown's POV

The figure watched Ragnaroc sink into unconsciousness, the comical boy's figure slumping to fall against his Maister's. Walking over to a nearby table, the figure set down the hypodermic needle it had just sunk into Ragnaroc's arm. It smiled sadly as it flexed its fingers, dangerous-looking red sparks crackling from its palms. "Poor kids. Sleep well, both of you. Our appointed meeting hasn't quite come to fruition, but when it does I truly hope that you survive it." It rearranged Ragnaroc into a more comfortable position on both Maister and Weapon before leaving, the door slamming shut behind it.


	12. Chapter 12- Bad Surprise and a Breakdown

**Chapter Twelve**  
Crona's POV

Crona moaned, his head throbbing harshly. He went to rub a hand into his forehead, but Crona's hand refused to budge. He cracked one dazed eye open, noticing with dull surprise that he was sitting up in a pretty cold chair, Ragnaroc snoozing upside down. The unconscious Weapon was protruding from Crona's chest, his head cradled nicely in Crona's lap with a line of drool oozing out of his comical mouth onto his Maister's white pants. Crona tried again to move, this time seeing the thick restraints that held his arms, legs, waist and throat tightly in place, but was unable to do much more than squirm slightly.

Crona shook in fear, hating how much worse being a helpless prisoner was after tasting a hint of normality. Before Maka had shown up with her beautiful eyes, warm soul and kind words, he had been able to live without having the slightest bit of control over his life. Now, the terror of the unknown, anger at whoever had done this to him and the barest spark of rebelliousness was tearing him to pieces. "Th-this is r-really b-bad. R-Ragnaroc! W-wake up!"

This was so similar to Lady Medusa's 'experimentation laboratory' that Crona wanted to throw up, but there were very clear differences. For one, the walls of this room were a sterile white, the floor made up of checkered black and white tiles,unlike the reddish-brown stained grey stone that made up the walls and ceiling of Lady Medusa's dungeon. Another difference was the bright light, leaving no area shaded. In Lady Medusa's lab, the only light was directly over her current subject, leaving whomever her attention was directed at blinded. Unfortunately, the similarities between the rooms were all of the worst parts; something to strap victims to, [though Lady Medusa preferred a table to a chair], a small table in the far corner of the room that was covered in various small, sharp, dangerous-looking weapon-like instruments, and a drain in the center of the slightly sloped floor for blood to seep into.

A door behind him swung open, light footsteps clicking towards Crona. "Wh-who's there?" He flinched and yelped quietly as a needle sunk into his neck, his vision blurring and thoughts turning into incomprehensible mush.

Crona's drug-addled mind heard but was unable to understand the person's calm words, their tone icily sad for some reason. "A friend and foe."

Death the Kid's POV

"Father, it's been three days since Crona's disappearance! I believe that we can safely say that he has either run away or has been kidnapped. Can't you send someone out to go and search for Crona?" Kid asked, readjusting his comical skull shaped cravat brooch for the hundredth time that day and brushing imaginary dust off of his obsidian black suit. Worry for his missing friend was about to drive him into a bad symmetry fit, the young shinigami already reduced to tapping his leg in spurts of eight to keep calm.

Lord Death was usually very sympathetic to his son's…issues, but his own illness had just been getting mysteriously worse. The tall shinigami was now bed-ridden for the most part, apparently ailing from a wicked sore throat and roiling stomach, hawking up large wads of phlegm and wiping an ever-running nose. Kid had learned that it was a very good idea to leave the upstairs bathroom door open, so that when the urge came, Lord Death could quickly stumble into the bathroom to hurl into the commode without having to pause. All in all, Kid's dad was not in a good mood. "Kiddo, go away and leave me alone."

"If nothing else, I would think that you would be worried about ruining all of the progress that Crona has made in healing his soul; it went from practically being a Kishin egg to being almost as clear as Maka's soul." Kid's eye twitched as his father pushed his mask to one side to blow his nose, then just left it hanging crookedly, the lopsidedness digging at his son's mind insistently. Kid shook his head, thought of how wonderfully symmetrical circles and squares were, and tried to continue. "I-If he just ran away, then he's probably in a bad enough state of mind that he could lose control of his sanity and go on a killing spree. When he came back to himself, not only would his soul have been ruined again, but his spirit would be irreparably broken. Crona already struggles to forgive himself for the crimes he was forced to commit under his mother's command; if he killed any innocents now, I don't think that even Maka would be able to help him stay sane."

"Kid, right now I don't really care." Lord Death's voice was unnaturally cold, the tall headmaster readjusting his pillows before settling back with a sigh. "I have been informed by a highly trusted source that Crona was the party responsible for Spirit's injuries, and that he went in to finish the job on the night he 'disappeared'." Lord Death's huge gloved hands formed quotation marks in the air on the last word, ignoring his son's disbelieving gasp. "Spirit managed to defend himself and run the boy off, but not before he learned that Crona has been poisoning me for the last week with some sort of toxin that only affects shinigami. He put it in a special tea I like, and replaced the pills that Stein prescribed for me. Apparently, you were going to be next."

Kid shook his head, shock stealing his words away before he could spit them out. **This is impossible. Crona? A traitor… again? No. I've seen how broken up Crona has been during and after his first betrayal, and that was when he was in Medusa's hold. Crona is simply not capable of betrayal.**

"In any case, I've sent several teams off to capture or kill the demon swordsman Crona. So, in a manner of speaking, I've fulfilled your request. Now, will you please go away?" Lord Death stiffened before making a mad dash for the restroom, Kid flinching as he walked down the ornate wooden staircase, the loud sound of desperate vomiting following him.

Kid walked into his room, absentmindedly lying back in the exact center of his bed as thoughts tumbled through his mind, one after another. He really needed to tell Maka what his father had just told him and help her find their friend before his father's men did, but first Kid had to calm down.

 **Crona, a traitor. It makes sense; after all, he is so unsymmetrical that he makes my head hurt to even think of him- no!** Kid tugged tightly on his hair, trying to keep his mind out of the comforting flow of neat orderliness. Maka and the Thompson sisters were the only friends that he had that were somewhat symmetrical, but that didn't make the rest traitors. "Concentrate…" he growled at himself, closing his eyes tightly. Crona had been a villain once, in a manner of speaking, but he had changed since coming to the academy. There was no way that he could have been poisoning Kid's father and torturing Maka's dad, that went against everything that Kid had learned about Crona.

Kid began to sweat, seeing every slightly crooked line and off-center object in his room. Each imperfection struck Kid almost worse than a physical blow, making him flinch and shiver uncontrollably. "Crona wouldn't betray Maka." Kid whimpered softly, flinching at the deep, asymmetrical marks that his fingernails had left on his arms. "I'm disgusting…No," he snarled ferociously, slamming his fists into the bed frame. "My condition does not rule me, I can control this…"

Crona was as bad as him; both of them were despicably imperfect beings that were only half human. "We're horrible!" Kid laughed out loud, feeling slightly hysterical. "And why shouldn't I be? I'm a waste of life! So wrong…" He felt his grasp on logic slip as he remembered that Maka had said that she and Crona had had a fight the day Crona had disappeared. **Crona could have snapped after having his closest ally apparently turn on him…** "NO! I refuse to dabble into theories on why one of my friends would go crazy, because of the simple fact that he didn't! I'll list the reasons."

Kid took a deep breath; in through the nose, out through the mouth. "One, Crona hates hurting others. He's made that clear enough every time we're supposed to spar in class." **He could have been lying. Or maybe Crona just doesn't want to let on just how deadly he is. How much he revels in causing pain.** "Shut up!" Kid snarled at himself, running his hands through his hair. A painting on the other end of his room was tilted too far, the asymmetrical sight dragging the young shinigami over against his will to straighten it up. "Two, Crona is terrified of everything. He can barely get through classes, let alone go out about a hundred miles to go beat Spirit to a pulp."

 **Again, he could be faking. Being scared of everything is a great way to earn sympathy from others.** Kid flinched as he tripped over his carpet, gasping in mental anguish as the decorative fabric rumpled up in no distinguishable pattern. He hurried to fix it, smoothing the rug out and making sure that it was exactly ten inches from the door and perfectly parallel from his bed. "Th-three. Crona is extremely over-protective of his friends, preferring to let himself die rather than let them get so much as a scratch." **So? It's not like Spirit or Father are his friends, Father wouldn't even let Crona get a more comfortable room than the refurbished cell.** "Four, Crona wouldn't have a clue how to find or make the virus that made Father ill."

He almost laughed at himself that time. Kid was reaching on that one and he knew it. Crona was a lot smarter than people thought that he was, the misconception that he was stupid coming from his extreme gullibility. Kid read a lot of self-help and psychology books to try and fix his obsessive-compulsive disorder, not that it helped him any. However, since he was almost a certified psychologist after all of that research, Lord Death had had Crona come and talk with him for a half an hour every Thursday. During their talks, Kid had learned a little about Crona's twisted past. It turned out that Crona's trusting nature had been forced on him, Medusa putting Crona into positions that gave him two options; either instantly listen, trust and obey whatever she told him, or be badly injured. Kid had heard from Lord Death that Crona received top marks on all of his school work, both physically and mentally, and when Kid had tested Crona with several puzzles of increasing difficulty, he had been amazed at the speed and accuracy in which they were solved. In fact, sometimes Kid would be hard-pressed to say which of the two boys was smarter; him, or Crona.

"Five, what reason would he have to hurt either my father or Spirit?" **Kid, your argument is so shaky that it would turn milk into butter. Spirit is always dismissive of Crona, not to mention the fact that if Spirit ever figured out that Crona had a crush on Maka, or more importantly, Maka felt the same way towards Crona, Crona would be a smear on the ground by the time that Father's favorite Death Scythe was done with him. And as for why he would attack Father, the possibilities are endless. Crona could have been angry that he was forced to stay in the same cell he was imprisoned in when he surrendered to the DWMA, or he could be angry that Father released his mother a few months ago, which led to him almost being killed. He could have joined the witch/shinigami war on the witches' side, or he may have just lost his temper at my father's infernally cheerful banter.**

"Sh-shut up. Crona is innocent until proven guilty." **Father has proof against Crona; at least one eyewitness who wishes to testify against him**. "S-six… Umm…" Kid's mind was growing groggily confused, a thick fog of worry and OCD descending in full force on the teen. "He couldn't have gotten from the school to the alley and back without being missed. There's no way." Kid smirked at himself as he paced back and forth in the exact center of the room. "Who am I kidding, Crona probably could find a way if he really wanted to."

He gasped breathlessly, suddenly having a desperate need for fresh air. Staggering over to the window, he ripped open his black drapes and yanked the glass up, shoving his head out into the bright rays of the laughing sun. Kid managed to gulp down a few quick breaths before the overwhelming lack of symmetry in the outside world forced the panicking young shinigami back into his room, slamming the pane of glass down with a sharp crack. "The world is filthy…" He chuckled grimly as his eye twitched in rapid spasms. "Absolutely filthy."

He frowned, rubbing his forehead "Seven… Seven… seven. Crona wouldn't just leave, he has far too strong of a crush on Maka." Kid flinched as he saw the messy state he had left his curtains in, trotting back over to straighten them up. **Though even that reason could be a clever ruse of Crona's to draw sympathy and acceptance, however unlikely that that seems.** Kid snarled, anger rising at his OCD and the fact that his mind was apparently trying to convince him that Crona was a traitor just because he was unsymmetrical.

"I know I can overcome my unfortunate condition; I refuse to submit to a mental disorder…" Kid chanted, repeating the sentence. He didn't realize it, but he had unconsciously said his words eight times, the sentence made up of two sets of eight words. Kid began to chuckle softly, realizing what came next. "Reason number eight. Eight… eight is beautiful… A picture of gorgeous symmetry."

He growled, the sound guttural as he shook his head, trying to get symmetry out of his mind. Kid strode quickly to his bathroom to splash water on his face, accidentally catching his reflection's double toned gold gaze in the mirror over the sink, the last bit of his mind not controlled by his OCD cursing up a storm. All of the mirrors in the mansion were supposed to be covered when not in use, since Kid's OCD always flared up when he saw his unfortunately half-striped hair. He wasn't certain when Patty had been in here, but he could definitely tell that this was her doing from the tooth-paste rendition of a giraffe that had been painted on the glass surface.

"N-no…" Kid crumpled to his knees, staring in horror at the three ugly white stripes that forever barred him from the peace of perfect symmetry. "Such a despicable being shouldn't exist…"

He smashed his fist against the floor, howling in agony at the anguish of being such an imperfect freak. "I'm disgusting, nothing more than scum!" Kid felt hot tears trickling down his cheeks as he slammed his head and fists into the floor and walls, the harsh pain soothing his OCD as much as the unsymmetrical wounds aggravated it. He welcomed the stabbing sensation as the bones in his right knuckle cracked, his out-of-it mind reasoning that it was his duly deserved punishment for being such a disappointing heir to the Death line, such a weak-minded shinigami, such a horrible friend, such a despicable piece of garbage. Then his obsessive-compulsive mind began to quiver at the sight of only one broken hand, so Kid began to grimly smash his other fist to balance himself out again.

Maka's POV

Maka sent her soul wavelength for what seemed like the millionth time that week, searching for a flinch of fear, a twinge of misery, a hum of kindness, a throb of gentility, a mutter of loyalty, a spark of gentleness; all the things that made up Crona's poor soul, but as usual her energy returned without having touched any souls but Soul's. They were riding through the desert on Soul's motorcycle, Maka using her soul perception to try and find the missing swordsman.

"Hey, Maka! We gotta head back now, we're almost outta gas."

Maka sent her wavelength out one more time before nodding to her Weapon partner. "Yeah." They had known that the odds of finding Crona in the desert were slim, seeing as how the boy had gone missing the week before and they had done this exact thing for the last three days, but both had agreed that it was better to be safe than sorry.

The ride back to Death City was a quiet one, both lost in their own thoughts. Maka's mind was full of questions; Had Crona left of his own accord… again? If not, then who had kidnapped him? Why would Crona be kidnapped? Was the timid Maister alright?

Her feelings weren't in much better shape, guilt over their fight battling with worry and concern for Crona's safety, a mental war that only left Maka feeling drained and sick.

When Soul pulled his bike over at Kid's mansion, the young shinigami having invited them over after school and their trip to plan what to do next, the pair were startled to hear loud crashing sounds coming from inside the house. "Patty?" Soul asked, red eyes confused as they both looked toward the tall black building. "That's not cool. Kid's gonna be having fits, it sounds like."

Maka nodded and sighed wearily. That was just what they needed just then; one of Kid's famous symmetry tantrums. She took a breath and headed on up the obsidian gravel path, figuring that the sooner the mess was cleaned up, the sooner Kid could think straight on what to do next.

She pushed open the front door and strode in, Soul swaggering in after her, both wincing at another loud crash. It sounded like it was coming from Kid's room, which was unusual. Patty was the only person other than Black Star who would dare trigger one of Kid's OCD attacks, but even she generally respected Kid's personal sanctuary. As the Maister and Weapon pair trotted up the stairs, they heard Liz's voice, the gun's usually calmly amused voice frantic. "Kid, open the door! Damn it, listen to me and open this door!"

"What's going on?" Soul asked, beating Maka to the question. Liz spun, eyes worried.

"We've got to get in there, Kid's having a really bad OCD attack. Patty's gone to get Doctor Stein, but if we don't get in there soon he's going to need Stein's help for more than just head problems." Liz slammed her fist against the door, pounding on the dark wood. "KID, OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR NOW!"

"Let me…" Soul slammed his shoulder against the door; once, twice, three times, four times… On the fifth attempt, the wooden door groaned and smashed open.

The sight inside the room was sickening, one of the worst things that she had ever seen with any of her friends- other than with Crona and Soul. The walls were dotted with fist-shaped impressions, blood smeared in places and pencils embedded deeply in others. The white carpet was stained red, gobs of crimson slowly soaking into the ivory-colored velvet, with long rips running up the length. But what was so eerie was the fact that all of this was perfectly symmetrical; the rips were carefully matched, the pattern of pencils mirrored on the opposite wall, and every bloodstain had an exact copy. The bed, chairs and table remained untouched, their pristine cleanliness beside the horrific images around them adding to the freakishness of the room. However, the worst thing in the room was Kid himself.

The teen shinigami normally looked and dressed impeccably, his half-striped raven hair neatly combed and his movements clean and crisp. Now, however, Kid looked… rumpled. Though he was rumpled in perfect symmetrical harmony; his suit seemed scruffy at the first glance, but with a closer look Maka could see that every cut and wrinkle somehow had a matching partner on the opposite side. His hair was mussed, though it was also mussed symmetrically, and his normally calm double-toned amber eyes were wild, his gaze flicking from person to person in jerky, spasm-like movements.

"Disgusting…" Kid's voice was ragged, and Maka winced as he started laughing, his emotionless chuckles turning into a flurry of wet coughs as he spat another blob of scarlet onto the floor. The boy jolted slightly, as though a cattle prod had just been rammed into his side, then fell to his knees and began carefully replicating the red spatter. Kid squeezed a large gash on his wrist, crimson liquid seeping from the injury to drip onto the floor.

"Shit…" Liz cursed, Maka turning to see that her friend's face had paled drastically. "He hasn't been this bad for years, not since he took us in off the streets."

"You're all… disgusting." Kid growled and slammed his fists against the floor, wincing as he did so. "No… Just because they're not symmetrical doesn't mean that they're disgusting-" He whimpered, face shifting back and forth between rage, fear, concentration and nausea. The nausea won, Kid gagging as he dry heaved before going back to his ragged cackling. "Yes, yes you are. You're all unbalanced garbage that should be destroyed for your own good."

"What do we do?" Maka asked Liz, but the older girl just shrugged helplessly.

"There's nothing we can do once he's gotten himself this bad, other than keep him from hurting himself while we wait for Doctor Stein to get here."

Soul gulped audibly as Kid staggered to his feet, the gold gaze directed towards them a fiery ball of utter hatred. "Um, I don't know if we need to worry so much about him hurting himself, but him hurting us? Now that seems like a very possible problem."

Maka had to agree with her Weapon partner as Kid drew nearer, the shinigami never before having seemed threatening to her. But now, he seemed a lot more dangerous than even Medusa had been, and the fact that Maka had seen what Kid was capable of wasn't helping either. His eyes burned into her, the amber orbs scorching a path from her head to her toes dispassionately. "Tolerable… barely." Maka wasn't sure whether she should feel grateful or insulted. The teen frowned, his eyes focusing closely on her as he did a short double take. "There was something I think I was supposed to tell you…"

Kid wiped a hand over his face, fortunately not appearing to notice as he smeared crimson across the bridge of his nose, his three observers flinching as he did so.

Maka gasped as the motion drew her eyes to the boy's hand. The last two knuckles of his hands had been forced to pop out of their sockets making the attached fingers droop uselessly, and Maka really hoped that she wasn't actually seeing a crimson weeping figure eight carved on the backs of his hands. "Shit!" Liz cursed again, her voice sad.

Kid stiffened momentarily, then darted forward in a blur. Maka blinked in surprise as it finally registered that he was no longer a few feet away, but right beside her, slamming Liz roughly against the wall."It is truly astonishing, the havoc you and your sister wreck upon my broken mind."

Maka started towards him, but he casually cracked a hand back, the blow sending Maka reeling back. She touched her cheek and winced as it came back red, his ring having left a long scratch down the side of her face.

The teen shinigami continued on as if nothing had occurred, one of his hands going up to cup his Weapon partner's cheek gently as his soft words continued. "Alone, you are beautifully balanced, a speck of symmetry in a world of asymmetrical beings." A small smile touched his lips as he stroked Liz's cheek, Kid's face softening until he almost looked like himself again. Then his face darkened and his hand moved down to grip her throat in an iron grip, an impressive feat to be able to do with only two fingers and a thumb. "But together, you and Patty are revolting; repulsive pieces of sickening unsymmetrical trash that constantly rip away at my sanity."

"Not… COOL!" Soul growled, hauling off and socking their friend hard. Kid fell to the floor, Soul keeping a wary eye on him, while Maka helped Liz stay on her feet.

"You filth!" Kid's voice was ragged velvet as he snarled furiously. "How dare you?" Kid slowly stood and glared at Soul, eyes dismissive as he took in the Weapon. "You're so ugly I can barely stand to look at you, and you dare to think you can touch me? I am the pinnacle of perfect symmetry, my life a shrine to the majesty of balance. You damnable trash, you sicken me." His hands clenched into painful-looking fists, Kid sneered. "But don't worry. I'll make sure that your disgusting lack of perfection doesn't ruin the world for much longer. In fact, you should be gone in just about… eight minutes, perhaps a few more or less as the case may be."

"Soul…" Maka said, prompting Soul to Manifest. Her partner hesitated before nodding and shifting forms, his orange jacket and blue jeans changing to a long black pole, his arm lengthening and sharpening into the jagged design of a scythe blade. Maka grabbed the staff, twirling the Weapon onto her shoulder with the ease of years of practice. "Kid, calm down."

"Yeah, man. Chill out." Soul's reflection in the blade nodded, watching their shinigami friend tense.

"Kid, please don't make me do this…" Liz gave her Meister a pleading look, but the teen merely sneered and stalked towards Maka and Soul, Maka's eyes widening as his soul began to hum with power. "I warned you. Guys, you remember what I said about keeping him from hurting himself?"

"Sure, but-"

Liz cut Soul off. "Hey, Kid! Your hair only has stripes on one side!"

Maka and Kid stiffened, Maka stiffening as she realized what Liz was doing, and Kid stiffened as pure horror entered his double toned eyes. The boy fell to his knees, fingers wrapping tightly in his hair as he began to rock back and forth. "Trash, filth, vermin, debris, shinigami waste, refuse, rubbish, garbage, litter, junk…" Kid's voice was almost normal as he muttered to himself, beginning to shake. Maka frowned as the thought crossed her mind that he was almost acting like Crona in one of his worse panic attacks. "Disgusting, filthy, indecent, revolting, repulsive, sickening, ghastly, sordid, horrible, nauseating…"

Soul shifted back, kneeling next to the distraught boy. "Hey, dude. You okay?"

Kid jolted violently, suddenly sitting straight up, though his head still hung against his chest. A low, pained sound began to rock his frame, Maka gulping as she realized that he was laughing again; the sound even rougher than before. "That's right, there are stripes on only one half of my hair. You are absolutely correct." Maka could see the long grin that had stretched itself across the boy's face, a ghoulish smile that showed absolutely no amusement at all. "I've been quite remiss in my little mission, wouldn't you say? Somehow I continually forget just how repulsive I am myself, no matter how hard I try to conceal the fact." His voice blackened with self-loathing as he slowly got to his feet, and Kid chuckled again. "I'm the most sickening being in this room! A shinigami pot calling the Maister and Weapon kettles black."

Kid's frigid laughter choked itself off, turning to loud sobs. "I abhor myself." Stumbling blindly across the room, the teen slammed into a wall and crumpled to the floor, having knocked himself out cold.

"Well, fuck…" Soul exhaled, Maka and Liz nodding in perfect agreement.

"Why don't we put him on his bed?" Maka suggested. Together, the three of them gently set the young shinigami on his pristine bed.

They went out into the mansion's living room to wait for Stein and Patty to get back; figuring Kid was probably going to be out for a while. "So, you've seen Kid like this before?"

"Yeah, or a little worse." Liz sighed and settled back in her chair as she continued. "Kid was way different when he picked Patty and I off the streets, a lot colder and more self absorbed, if you can believe it… Anyway, he had determined that since we were so asymmetrical that he would have to stick us on a trial period of a month before he decided on whether or not to keep us as his personal Weapons."

"Seriously? That's not cool."

Liz shrugged. "We were different then too. Anyway, about a week or so after we moved in here, Kid got called by his dad to go and hunt down a Kishin egg in Rome. So, we ran on over there on Beelzebub and started attacking the creepy thing, Kid trying his hardest to keep hold of us as he fired on it. You see our souls weren't exactly on speaking terms, so while we were able to sync up enough so that he could pick us up, every time he fired one of us, not only would the kickback feel three or four times as harsh as it should have, but our handles were burning his hands pretty badly.

If the Egg hadn't gone and ate the soul of a nearby little child, we all probably would have died. However, that made all three of us furious at the Kishin egg instead of each other, and we were able to resonate fully for the first time. That was when we found out just how freaky Kid can get when he's really stressed and tired.

It turned out that the Kishin egg was actually completely asymmetrical, something that Kid hadn't been able to see since it had been keeping mostly to the shadows. Anyways, when Kid saw it he freaked out and started beating the Kishin up. When it had faded away to nothing more than a crimson soul, then Kid started fixing the symmetry of the town. Unfortunately, that involved shooting the buildings to dust, since they had been built in a very unorganized manner. When we shifted back to yell at Kid, he attacked us. Fortunately for us, Kid caught sight of his reflection in a pane of glass and started trying to kill himself by beating his head in with a brick. He managed to knock himself out, we called Lord Death, and he got us a ride home and gave the town more than enough money and supplies to rebuild itself. After about sixteen or seventeen more such OCD attacks, Lord Death contacted Stein, who made up a batch of pills that help with Kid's OCD and stress. He's never had another attack that bad since then; I don't know why he relapsed today."

Maka frowned, realizing something. "Where's Lord Death? Isn't he here?"

Liz nodded, pointing up towards the older shinigami's room. "Yeah, but he probably took some sleeping pills after Kid talked to him earlier; he's been doing that a lot lately. To a guy that's never had a sore throat or an upset stomach, sleeping through the worst of it is definitely preferable to spending most of his time with his head in the toilet."

The door burst open, making the three friends jump to their feet, Soul Manifesting as Maka grabbed his handle, swinging him into an offensive position. Then Maka relaxed, recognizing the two soul wavelengths seconds before their owners ran into the room; the spastic and generally scarily cheerful soul of Patty, and the overwhelmingly powerful soul of Professor Stein.

"I take it that Kid is detained at the moment?" Stein's voice was calmly monotonous, the calm words a contradiction to the quick pace that the two had had just seconds before.

"He knocked himself out." Liz replied, waving in the direction of Kid's room.

"How bad was he?"

Liz shuddered, Stein nodding thoughtfully as though that had given him all of the information that he needed. "Ah. I'll be back."

It took him about an hour before the professor returned, lightly trotting down the stairs. "He'll be fine in a day or two. I would personally advise against him wielding either of you two," nodding towards the Thompson sisters, "for at least three days, to let his fingers heal fully. Also, try and keep him as calm as possible for the next two days or so."

Liz nodded seriously, while Patty giggled and clapped. "Do you know why he relapsed?"

"From what I can understand, he's been weaning himself off of the medications that I prescribed, and for the last few weeks he hasn't been taking any at all. That, mixed with the stress of having Crona missing, and seeing anything asymmetrical, is the most probable causes that I can think of for his OCD attack."

"Oopsie!" Patty said, looking guilty. "I went and drew a pretty giraffe on Kid's mirror this morning, but I don't think I washed it off…"

"Patty!"

"In any case," Stein called attention back to him with a polite cough, "Kid is lucid, and he wants to talk with you all, but Maka especially. He said that it was 'highly urgent'."

"That's right, earlier he said he thought there was something that he was supposed to tell you, remember? It was right between calling you tolerable and attacking Liz." Soul reminded her, sticking his thumbs in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

Maka nodded and headed up the stairs, the others on her heels. When she opened the door, Maka was somewhat surprised to see Kid sitting on the floor, scrubbing at the bloodstains. "Um, aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

Kid jumped to his feet, one hand nervously brushing down the front of his suit. "Maka, Soul, Liz, I sincerely apologize for my atrocious behavior; it was heinous of me, and I have no excuses."

Maka raised an eyebrow, a small smile on her lips. "I don't know; it seems to me that having such an extreme case of OCD is a pretty good excuse to me… In any case, we're all fine, so no harm done to us. If you should be apologizing to anyone, it's yourself."

"I agree with Maka. Kid, I've seen you like this before, it's not a big deal." Liz said, setting her hands on her hips. "What is a big deal is not taking your medications without telling Patty or I! What were you thinking?"

"I disliked the idea of becoming dependent on them to cope with my life, so I thought that I would try and take them only when I truly needed a stress relief." Kid smiled sheepishly. "And then, when I did need to keep calm, I completely forgot to take them."

Soul spoke up, leaning against the wall. "Hey, not getting dependent is cool, but next time, talk it over with Stein, alright? Freaking us out like that and beating yourself up is not cool."

Kid nodded. "Don't worry, I will."

"Was that what you wanted to tell us?" Maka asked, confused.

Kid's eyes bulged, and he began to tap his pocket in sequences of eight. "Damn it, how could I have forgotten?"

"Kid, calm down." Stein warned him, absently twisting the screw in his head a few clicks. "I will sedate you if you get too anxious."

"Fine, fine. Maka, my father was told that Crona has turned traitor; torturing Spirit, then slipping him a virus that made him ill before going back to the hospital to kill Spirit outright." Kid flinched as Maka shot a deadly glare in his direction, knowing that Crona could never have betrayed Lord Death again after the shinigami had given him a second chance to live in Death City. "Apparently, Spirit was able to fight back well enough that Crona was forced to retreat."

"Crona would never-" Maka started, only for Kid to wave a dismissing hand.

"I know, Crona doesn't have it in him to make my father as ill as he is, let alone trying to kill your father. He would never be willing to hurt you, even if it was indirectly. I'm just telling you what Father told me was his reasoning for sending DWMA agents out to capture or kill Crona."

Maka and Liz gasped, Soul paled slightly, and Stein scowled while Patty frowned, "That's not good."


	13. Chapter 13-Bullying and OC Introductions

**Chapter Thirteen**

Maka's POV 

"It's not like Lord Death to send agents out to kill a student like this…" Stein's glasses reflected the light into Maka's eyes, making her blink.

"We need to go out and find Crona before the agents do." Maka said, clenching her gloved fists. "Once we've done that, then we can find out what's going on and try to sort this mess out."

"I agree. I also believe that it would be better to hide Crona once we've found him, at least until I can talk my father into not locking him up or killing him on sight." Kid agreed, the young shinigami busily cleaning up the last of the bloodstains in his room.

"The hardest thing is going to be figuring out where he is, though. After all, he's far enough away that Maka can't find his soul wavelength when we drove through the desert. Just to explain exactly why that's such a big deal, she was able to faintly feel his wavelength all the way up at the school from our apartment when she really strained before he disappeared." Soul put in, sitting on the edge of Kid's bed. "He could be just about anywhere in the world now, and Lord Death has way more resources that'll help him find Crona than we do."

"Fortunately, I am able to access most of those same resources; anything that Father's spies or agents tell him, I can probably find a way to overhear." Kid tugged the cuffs of his suit jacket tight, double-toned amber eyes serious. "Not only that, but once we find out where Crona is, I can find a mission for you that is within a ten mile radius."

"That way the school pays for your travelling expenses… Very smart." Stein nodded his approval, leaning up against the doorframe.

"So, what do we do right now?" Soul asked, frustration in his voice.

"Nothing. We can't do… anything. Not yet." Maka hated the words that were dropping from her lips, but she spat them out nevertheless. "Without knowing where to find him, going out to look for Crona would be a waste of time and resources."

"Wait, we can do something…" Liz got up from bleaching a blood stain, blue eyes furrowed. "Hey, Kid. Didn't you say that your father said that the main reason that he was having agents act in a hostile manner towards Crona was because of something that some supposed witness said?"

"Not in those exact words… but yes, I believe that what this mystery witness said directly influenced my father's choice in putting Crona's soul on his death list."

Maka began to pace, seeing what Liz was getting at. "So, if we find this witness, we should be able to convince him or her to tell the truth about what happened."

"What if they're being blackmailed to do it by one of the townsfolk?" Stein inquired, his head tilting to one side as he carefully watched Maka.

"Why would that even come up?" Liz asked, shocked.

"Because of Crona's past as Medusa's evil pawn - the Demon Swordsman - Lord Death's acceptance of him into the academy twice didn't set well with the city folk. I know that he's gotten hundreds of complaints from not only the citizens of Death City, but also Crona's fellow Maister and Weapon classmates." Stein shrugged, looking unconcerned. "I would be extremely surprised if Crona didn't receive a multitude of similar letters."

"He did," Maka confirmed, only to have Kid shake his head.

"He still does. I caught him dumping a sack of envelopes just the other day. When I pressed Crona, he allowed me to read one. The one I read was very aggressive in its suggestion that he leave the Academy, or else."

Maka frowned, upset that Crona had been keeping that to himself. One day when she had come to visit him, Crona had been sitting in the corner of his room, crying into a pillow. When Maka asked him what was wrong, he had directed her to a very large pile of letters, all demanding that he leave the academy. She had asked him to talk to Lord Death about having his mail screened, and had thought that either he had, or that the letters had just stopped coming, since she had never seen another letter since that day.

Apparently he hadn't.

"Well, this is not cool. So we've basically got most of Death City as suspects who want to get rid of Crona? This sucks." Soul grouched, falling back onto Kid's bed.

"What exactly was Crona accused of, again?" Maka asked, feeling that she was right on the verge of something helpful… There was something just out of reach in her mind, something obvious that was going to pick at her until she got it.

"From what I can remember, the mystery witness said that Crona was the person who attacked Spirit, then later added a virus to some of my father's tea and switched out the pills that you," gesturing toward Stein, "brought to Father, before attempting to kill Spirit again."

Maka paled as Kid spoke, suddenly realizing what her mind had been trying to tell her. "Hey, guys. I'm gonna go grab some lunch, anyone want anything?"

"No, thank you though."

"I already ate."

"I'll take a sandwich, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, me too."

"Nah. You want me to come with you?" Soul asked, flashing her a small jagged grin.

"No, I'll be back soon." Maka trotted out of the mansion and headed back towards the Academy, hoping that her suspicions were wrong.

Crona's POV 

Crona slowly gained consciousness, fighting his rising panic as he remembered what had been going on the last few times he regained consciousness. He would wake up, then one to three boys would come in; Crona wasn't sure how many there were. He wasn't sure because that while he could see them, they all looked exactly alike… so he didn't know if there were actually three identical kids in the room, or just one but the serum that they kept injecting him with was just messing with his head.

Once however many there were came in, then they would start the pain. It wasn't that bad; Crona had gone through far, far worse, but the sheer length of time that they kept it up would wear down his resistance. The shots- not the sleeping one – weren't too painful, they just made his head go all foggy. It was the electricity that really got to him. The boys would attach wires to his head and wrists, then suddenly his vision would burst with white spots as electricity coursed through his body. After a while it would get worse, the boys increasing the voltage until Crona screamed in agony.

It wasn't like the times when Lady Medusa would have him get captured by her enemies; they weren't asking him questions. It wasn't like when Lady Medusa conducted her experiments either. They weren't stopping to write down what was happening, and they didn't check any charts. It wasn't even like when the bullies at school would beat him up; they weren't beating him senseless, and they weren't hissing at him about what a horrible person he was. Instead, his tormentors almost treated him like he wasn't there, joking and laughing with each other while Crona cried out, torturing him for what seemed like forever before finally letting him slip back into slumber with a prick of a needle.

That was another thing; they never let the pain get bad enough that he fainted… they danced along the line, but they never let him pass out until they gave him the injection.

This time was different; there weren't any tormentors there yet. However, how long this would hold true Crona didn't know. He yanked at his bindings uselessly, only managing to bruise his wrists, ankles, waist and neck. "D-dang it…" Crona growled, forcing himself to struggle harder.

The door handle rattled, making Crona flinch. He thought fast, letting his head flop down against his chest and feigning unconsciousness. The door opened and two people walked in; one had heavy footsteps - probably a large man- while the other person's footsteps barely registered at all on the tile floor, the soft sounds that reached Crona's ears telling him that that person probably was either dragging their feet or limping.

"I hate doing this. It always seems like an invasion of privacy, you know?" This voice was a weak, tired young girl's voice, probably the owner of the soft footsteps.

"I understand, but you understand that what Uncle wants, Uncle gets. Think of it this way; if it were left up to him, the people you do this to would be dead for working for our enemies." Crona remembered this voice… The deep tones belonged to the guy who had injected him with the sleeping potion the first few times he had been here, before the multiple boys had arrived to fill most of Crona's waking hours with pain.

The girl sighed deeply, coming to a halt directly in front of Crona's chair. "Is this really all that different? I mean, look at him. He looks half dead to me already, and this is just from the preparation." A petite hand rested on Crona's forehead while a second pressed against the center of his chest; directly above where Maka always said his soul was. "But I suppose that the sooner I get this over with, the sooner Father will cease this torture."

Crona couldn't help himself and let out a shocked gasp as something… prodded, at his soul, a light, almost airy presence that was utterly unfamiliar. He squirmed in his restraints as the prodding sensation grew stronger and stronger, now almost feeling like something was hammering at his very being. He hadn't known that anything could directly attack his soul; this was unbelievably uncomfortable and highly frightening. Crona had spent the last few months of his life trying to purify his soul with the help of his friends, so the thought of these people doing something to it was terrifying.

Crona stiffened and yelped as the sharp jabs suddenly pierced his soul, something wafting into it with the sensation of cool steam. It felt like his soul was being soaked by this unknown soul from the inside out.

The hand against his head pressed in harder, the girl's skin warm against his skin. He winced as a splitting headache ripped through his head with the force of a sledgehammer, the pain almost melding with the uncomfortable sensation of…whatever was being done to his soul.

"Pox and fever…" The girl's voice was horrified as she spoke, her hands beginning to tremble. "This poor boy…"

"What's wrong? Did Cerberus go too far?"

"No further than Father instructed, but this boy… Crona… he's gone through worse pain than this in his life, far worse." The hands were removed, the girl stepping a few steps back. "I hate myself for saying this, but… His mind and soul will have to be far weaker than even this, seeing as how I not only have to reshape-"

"Hush, let's continue this conversation outside."

The footsteps quickly exited, the door slamming shut behind the two, leaving Crona shaken and very worried.

Maka's POV 

Maka strode through the halls and corridors of the DWMA, her pace getting slower and slower as she neared the medical wing until she finally came to a dead stop right in front of the hospital door. "Damn it." Maka rested her gloved hand against the wall, unable to continue. What if her suspicions were right?

She leaned forward to press her forehead against the back of her hand. 'Crona… what happened to you?' she wondered, her eyes closing tightly. 'If what you said was right…' If what Crona had said was right, then his disappearance was probably her father's fault. Maka knew that she should be in the room already, demanding an answer from Spirit, but…

It was one thing to half-heartedly dislike her father and just let him think that she hated his guts, the only thing standing between them being Spirit's irritating and embarrassing habit of still going to Chupacabra. She hadn't completely gotten over the fact that he had cheated on her mother, but she had grudgingly forgiven him a long time ago. However, if he had actually betrayed the Academy and Lord Death by poisoning the cheerful headmaster, then had blamed it all on Crona…

Maka's hand clenched into a fist at the thought, anger and worry burning hand in hand through her mind. "Papa…" She wanted nothing more than to just turn around and pretend that everything was fine. Spirit was out at Chupacabra, sobbing about how his family didn't love him anymore to one of the various hookers there, and Crona was just hiding somewhere, trying to convince his Weapon partner to keep the origins of where he had gotten his various injuries hidden from his friends.

Maka had a feeling that Crona's big secret was that he was still being bullied; it was just the sort of thing that the meek boy would feel bad about sharing. Not because he was embarrassed or afraid of his tormentors, the normal reasons for not letting others know, but because he didn't want his friends feeling bad about the fact that he was getting hurt in the school that was supposed to be a safe haven of sorts. Maka was unfortunately not just guessing on this.

 _"Why is it that you were the one who reset my alarm clock so we got to class late, you were the one who tried to cheat on our test and you were also the one to get into a frog gut flinging contest with Black Star, and yet I'm stuck here helping you clean?" Maka sent a dirty look Soul's way, rolling her eyes in exasperation as she saw that he hadn't even noticed; the albino boy was half-heartedly swishing a mop around on the floor, spreading bleach water over the cold stone._

 _"Black Star's the one who started the frog fight, but Mifune had already set up an extra tutoring session with him before class. So, he and Tsubaki had an air tight excuse to get out of punishment duties for now." Soul shrugged casually, apparently not bothered by his blue-haired friend's antics. "By the way, the whole reason that I delayed your alarm was so that you could finally get some sleep. You stay up half the night after your nightmares, finally falling asleep around dawn only to get woken up to go to school. I figured that skipping one class wasn't too big of a deal in return for you getting the stick out of your rear that you get when you're exhausted. And I did not cheat!"_

 _"Really." Maka stopped wiping off the desk tops to glare flatly at her Weapon partner, not appreciating the reminder of her night terrors. "So, trying to copy off of Crona is something that's perfectly acceptable, hmm?"_

 _"Come on! I just accidentally saw his paper, and he just happened to have the right answers. Which, just so you know, I did come up with on my own." Soul wiped a bead of sweat off of his forehead before getting back to work._

 _Maka rolled her eyes again, unconvinced that his statement was true since Soul had spent the last few days playing video games instead of studying, the fact that even she had just barely gotten an A on the test while he and Crona had been the only two in the class to receive an A+ not helping his case either._

 _"Speaking of Crona, where in the heck has he been hiding? He always disappears immediately after class, and you can't find a trace of him until the next day."_

 _"I think that he's been in his room. At least, that's where he's been every time I go to look for him."_

 _Soul paused and flopped into a nearby chair, letting his mop lean against Stein's desk as he propped his head up with his hands. "Hey, why don't you look around for him now? You know, use your soul wavelength and all that."_

 _"Alright." Maka closed her eyes and sent her Grigori soul wavelength out in a wide beam. It immediately picked up on Soul's soul; the hum that the ball of energy let off sending shivers down Maka's spine; a constant, tiny version of Soul's special musical resonation. Further out, she ran into the souls of Professor Stein and Miss Marie. Stein's soul was a contradictory unto itself; both calmly logical and wildly insane, unable to feel and yet filled with affection towards his friends and students with a little bit of uncertain love towards Miss Marie. Miss Marie's soul felt like a feather brushing against sensitive skin; the unusual sensation making Maka's lips twitch upwards while, deeper down, the female teacher had a kind, generous center._

 _Maka pushed her soul out even further, this time coming across Kid, Liz and Patty. They must have been headed back from a talk with Lord Death, because Kid's soul had the tinge of irritated amusement that it always had after speaking with his highly exuberant father. Liz's soul was full of weary good humor, while Patty's bubbled and sparked with excitement, both so similar and yet so different that it hurt Maka's head to concentrate on their souls for too long._

 _Moving on, she finally found the soul that she had been searching for. When she had first seen Crona's silver soul she had thought that it was as fragile as a thin glass egg, but as soon as she had embraced it, taking part of it into her own soul, she had realized that he had a truly strong energy. However, the strength in his soul was boxed in and kept at bay by the years of fear, pain and self-hatred that Medusa had forced onto him; leaving him a weak tool for his mother's amusement. In any case, ever since Maka had first resonated with Crona after she had broken through his weak mental defenses, wiping away the circle in the sand that 'protected' his mind against others, Maka had found that she was able to connect deeper with him than anyone other than Soul._

 _She touched Crona's soul with hers, making a face as the normal feelings of despair, loneliness, fear and self-hatred washed around her with the sensation of sticky oil. Then she jolted, eyes flying wide open as she ran for the door. Maka heard Soul ask her what was going on as he followed, but her attention was on finding where exactly Crona was right now. Sharp pain ripped through Crona's soul, a short flash of anger and madness quickly drowned out by fear and a noticeable attempt on Crona's part to calm back down. The pain never stopped, just getting worse and worse as Maka got closer, until both she and Soul heard cruel laughter echoing through an empty wing of the Academy._

 _"Come on, Kishin! Attack me back!"_

 _Thud thud THWACK!_

 _"No wonder Albarn was able to defeat the last one, if they're all this pathetic." More laughter followed the comment, along with breathless cursing and a wet cough. "Guess what? We don't want Lord Death's pet demon here, whether or not the headmaster's broken your claws and filed down your fangs."_

 _Maka rounded the corner and froze in horror, the scene in front of her worse than she had thought. Eight Maisters and Weapons stood in a wide circle, the Weapons having Manifested their various limbs while the Maisters held regular weapons. They ringed two figures; Crona was barely able to stand on his feet, blood running down his cheek from a long split across his brow, while the other boy smirked at his obvious discomfort. "Get the freak, Damen!" One of the Weapons cheered the boy in the center on, waving his spiked iron ball of a fist; he was apparently a Mace._

 _Damen cracked his neck as he slowly swaggered over to where Crona was, the lavender-haired boy just watching his approach with a tired look in his eyes- the same emotion wafting through his soul. The bully lashed out a brutal side kick, sending Crona flying back toward the circle of students. Maka expected them to scatter, but instead, they lashed out with their various weapons, Crona smashing to the floor under their assault. Ragnaroc had been cursing their attackers as loudly as he could, the small Weapon forced to grab Crona's hair in a death grip to stay upright as his Maister was flung around. "R-Ragnaroc, would you p-p-please go back into my blood?" Crona's soft voice was full of pain, and as Maka watched in frozen horror, he was racked by a painful-looking cough; his entire thin frame shaking at the motion. Black liquid dripped from his lips, slowly oozing down the side of his mouth to leave a small puddle on the floor._

 _"Monster." Damen's words were almost cheerful as he grabbed the hand of one of the Weapons, the girl Manifesting into a two tonged blade. "You'd think that all of our little lessons would have gotten the fact into your pink head that no one wants you here, but apparently we're gonna have to get a little more… convincing." The bully strode over to where Crona was slowly struggling to his feet, shoving the Weapon hilt deep into Crona's side. Black blood poured from the wound as Damen ripped the Weapon back out, coating the white floor in ink black ooze before Ragnaroc healed the injury._

 _Maka was still frozen, her mind screaming at her to move and go help Crona while her body just ignored all of her brain's commands. Crona giggled, making Maka stiffen in a mixture of fear and worry, the sound full of insanity. "Did you know that my blood is black?" Then he paled and shook his head with a wince, his voice shaking but free of madness as he continued. "P-please, st-stop!"_

 _"Hear that? The demon wants us to stop hurting him!" Damen leaned in close to the other teen, an ugly sneer splashed across his face. "I wonder how many of your victims begged you to stop."_

 _At the unfair comparison between the two boys, Maka's paralysis snapped, allowing her to run forward. "How dare you?" The cold growl of her voice made all of the tormentors jump and turn towards her, all instantly paling at being caught. Crona glanced up, Maka feeling a spurt of intense relief and happiness at seeing her splash through his soul before it changed to intense fear, his eyes widening in terror…for her._

 _"M-Maka, run!"_

 _"Yeah, I'd listen to the freak. Run away and pretend that you never saw us, and we'll give you the same courtesy."_

 _Maka felt herself shaking with anger at their cowardice. "I don't think so."_

 _"All right." Damen smirked, nodding at his fellow bullies. "Can't say we didn't warn you." He swung his Weapon at her face, intending to leave a mark._

 _CLANGGGG!_

 _Everyone did a double take; Crona somehow having managed to get to his feet,get across the room, get Ragnaroc to come back out in Sword form, and block Damen's Weapon, all in a mere couple of seconds. Damen yelped and jumped back, no longer so cocky now that his former 'opponent' was now ready to fight back. "Are you alright, Crona?" Maka asked worriedly, seeing how the swordsman was holding his side instead of his arm like he usually did._

 _"I-I'm fine." Crona said dismissively, his gaze flicking between Damen and Maka. "Are you okay?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _Crona turned back around, his grip on Ragnaroc tightening. "Ragnaroc, Scream Resonance."_

 _"It's about damn time, too." Thick red lips popped out of the black and silver blade, pursing for a minute before the Weapon hiccupped and screeched at a painfully high level. "Guh-goop gupi! EeeeeYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"_

 _Everyone, Maka included, flinched and winced. Maka felt Crona's soul grow tense and pained against hers, his soul's energy shifting uncomfortably. The boy himself closed his eyes, his black-streaked ivory fingers pressing tighter against his side, suddenly screaming in a horrific harmony with his Weapon. His soul trembled violently; flickering from his gentle icy blue soul to an X marked red soul to a pale blue winged soul, before finally settling on an unnatural violet soul. Maka watched as violet light poured out of Crona and into Ragnaroc; the Sword growing huge, wicked looking jags on his blade as the dark purple energy rippled through him._

 _Maka and all of the bullies clapped their hands to their ears to close out the horrible sounds that Crona and Ragnaroc were making, Maka straightening in quite a bit of relief as Crona's unusually colored soul reached out and sheltered her from their attack, lightening to almost the same pale shade of lavender as Crona's hair as his soul melded with her Grigori soul. She watched as the bullies slowly began to crumple and fall to the ground, scarlet leaking from their ears. When the last one had fallen Crona bit off his cry with a whimper, Ragnaroc following suit a minute later as the large pair of lips pulled back into the blade with a sigh._

 _"Are they alright?" Maka asked, feeling mixed feelings on whether or not to hope that they were. She still wasn't sure if she was glad as Crona nodded._

 _"Y-yeah, as long as Ragnaroc qu-quits screaming after a few m-minutes, it only knocks p-p-people out. We also d-didn't scream at our h-highest pitch, so th-that helped too." Crona shrugged and immediately collapsed, his grey eyes rolling up in his head as he lost consciousness. Maka barely managed to catch him before he hit the floor again, his lithe frame lighter than she would have liked._

 _"Does he have another injury that you haven't been able to heal?" Maka asked Ragnaroc, the Weapon giving her a dirty look before smirking and disappearing into Crona's bloodstream again._

 _"Why don't you look and see for yourself?"_

 _Maka frowned, confused by the sudden glint of mischief that had appeared in the Weapon's x-ed out eyes and his words themselves. Had he intentionally left a wound open to hurt his Maister? It didn't make any sense and didn't fit in with the Sword's usual behavior towards Crona, but why else would he have said something like that?_

 _Maka gently lay Crona down on the floor and began to unbutton his uniform shirt to check for wounds, but just as she had undone the first few fasteners and had gone to pull Crona's shirt open, Crona's eyes shot open and he turned pale white. The boy yelped and backpedaled as best he could, yelping again as he accidentally slammed into a wall, one hand whipping up to hold his shirt closed. Maka blinked a few times as Crona hastened to re-button his shirt, wondering why on earth she was feeling embarrassed._

 _"Are you okay? Is there still an open wound somewhere?"_

 _Crona frowned, looking confused as he finished buttoning his shirt back up, his hand then running over the pulled up straight collar of his uniform top to make sure that it hadn't fallen down. "N-no; Ragnaroc h-healed them all."_

 _"Then why did you faint?"_

 _Crona flushed and ran a hand through his cropped lavender hair, a few strands sticking up in odd patches. "I d-dunno…"_

 _Ragnaroc poured out of Crona's back, the small Weapon sneering as he leaned on Crona's head. "Um, you don't think having the shit beat out of you might be a cause, do you? You must have taken one too many blows to the head; you're being a fucking moron." Ragnaroc laughed loudly, yanking on Crona's hair roughly. "Though, come to think of it, you were actually like this before today."_

 _"Ragnaroc…" Crona sighed heavily as he slowly got to his feet, wincing and putting a hand to his head._

 _"But I suppose that these jack-asses could still have caused your idiocy. You could have just gotten whacked wrong on one of the other times they cornered us."_

 _Crona paled again, dark grey eyes flicking over towards Maka. "Ragnaroc!"_

 _"How long have you been getting bullied?" Maka asked, a growing feeling of dread creeping up on her. Her fears only grew as Crona looked at the floor, the ceiling, the walls; anywhere except directly at her. "Crona, how long?"_

 _"A c-couple of w-weeks." Crona's grip moved from his side to his arm, long fingers wrapping around his biceps tightly. "It's n-not a big deal, really."_

 _Maka felt her face slowly beginning to turn red as she tried and failed to keep her temper under control. "Yes, this is a big deal. How could you not tell me? Or Lord Death? Or Professor Stein? Or Soul, or Kid, or… somebody? Anybody? Did they threaten you?"_

 _"Yeah." Crona shrugged, not sounding all that worried about their threats. "But I j-j-just didn't w-want to drag any of y-you into this m-mess. I've already b-been putting you all th-through a lot of w-worry and t-trouble because of what I've d-done in my p-past and who I am." He looked at the floor as his eyes darkened. "Besides, I know th-that I don't deserve to b-be as happy as I am; n-not after the things that I've d-done. So, I l-lke to th-think of this a-as penance, of s-sorts; p-payment for my l-life here."_

 _Maka grabbed his shoulders, looking him straight in his dark cobalt eyes. "Crona, never think like that. You don't need to pay penance, at least not like that. Getting yourself hurt doesn't help anyone; not you, not them, not your friends, not even the people that Medusa forced you to kill. All it does is make you feel bad, it makes them-" waving a gloved hand at the unconscious bullies, "get closer to becoming Kishin eggs themselves, it makes us, your friends, feel awful when we find out that you've been getting beat up for a while in a place that we assured you would be safe, and it does nothing at all for your victims." She sighed deeply, worry for the thin boy in front of her wriggling through her stomach like Medusa's snakes. "If you feel that you absolutely have to pay penance, then volunteer somewhere; help the people that are still trying to finish rebuilding Death City, offer your time at the library, put up food at the local food pantry, go and pick up trash on the streets, so on and so forth. Do something productive instead of destructive to feel better about yourself. Please?"_

 _Crona hesitated before he nodded, Maka letting go of his sagged shoulders to wrap him in a tight hug. "A-alright."_

Maka shook her head, caught between amazement at the boy's insanely stubborn sense of protection towards his friends, irritation at his inability to realize that all of his friends hated him being in pain, and hurt surprise that he would have broken his promise to her.

She shook her head, her short wishful daydream cut short by the heart-broken wail from behind the door, reminding her that Spirit was in the hospital, and that Crona was missing. "Why hasn't my little Maka come to see her father?"

"Ugh…" Maka groaned softly, her head falling forward to gently slam against the wall, not looking forward to having to not only deal with asking her father if he had been behind all of the problems at the Academy recently, but also having to do this while he was in one of his clingy moods. "This day just couldn't get any better, could it?"

She straightened and tugged on her gloves, working on getting her emotions as controlled as possible as she made sure that her tie was centered, her jacket was smooth, and her shirt was tucked neatly into her skirt. By the time that Maka's outfit was immaculate, she had sufficiently calmed down enough that her mind was running smoothly once more- not knotted up in worry and fear.

Maka took a deep breath and swung open the door, striding into the medical wing of the Academy with only the barest of hesitations, ready to ask her father several very hard questions.

Crona's POV 

Crona howled as electricity crackled through his body, struggling against his restraints hard enough that his wrists were beginning to bleed from where he had scraped them raw. This was the worst torture that he had been forced to undergo so far, having been started off with an injection that had hiked up his sensitivity to pain. It seemed like it had been going on forever, to the point where Crona felt that Lady Medusa's experiments on him had been mere pinches next to this.

He could taste black blood, a nasty mix of copper, oil and molasses, from the throbbing wounds in his cheeks and tongue where his three tormentors had shoved a small spiked ball in his mouth before covering his mouth with duct tape. It was actually still in there, a sharp, heavy obstruction that forced him to keep his jaw loose. That got pretty hard, especially when he was used to clenching his teeth during these sessions.

Crona wasn't used to losing this much blood; it was making him feel nauseous on top of the pain of the actual torture. Usually Ragnaroc stopped any bleeding, but whatever drugs that his tormentors were keeping him on had apparently messed with Crona's Weapon companion pretty badly. He hadn't seen Ragnaroc since that first day, and Crona's blood had been spilling like any other person's… well, other than the fact that it was black, and slightly thicker than normal blood.

"Oy, ya think we're about done yet? We've been at this fer… what? A couple'a hours at the least, right?"

"Sounds about right ta me. I'm kinda bushed out too."

"Nah, let's give it a few more minutes. Ya know the boss likes stuff ta get done right."

The rush of electricity got stronger, Crona having to struggle to keep from letting his jaw snap shut at the white-hot rush of sparks. His cries had long ago turned ragged from screaming so long, the lack of moisture in his throat not helping matters any either. The few times that he had been able to swallow down the pool of blood that constantly gathered in his mouth, he had almost thrown up at the sensation of the slowly moving black ooze sliding stickily down his throat, the dark liquid burning the scratches and raw tissue.

"Come on… Not like he's going anywhere."

"Fine. If yer want us ter get on Highness's bad side, then yer can turn it off."

Crona sagged in relief as the stream of fiery agony finally stopped, barely feeling the prick as one of the other boys injected him through the slowly dimming jolts of scorching sparks, his body still unconsciously jerking in spasmodic convulsions. He welcomed the descent into oblivion, short as it may be, sighing softly as his vision began to darken.

"Oy! Yer get the kid moved over, we'll go out and get some dinner."

"Aw, come on!"

"I'd hurry, didn't you hear? Cook's making steak… first come, first serve. If yer take too long, there might just not be any left fer yer."

"Which'd be a crying shame, fer sure."

"Yer two bite, yer know that?"

"See yer." Two of the boys left, leaving the last one alone in the room with Crona.

Crona vaguely felt the restraints holding him into the chair being loosened and released, a thin arm sliding behind his shoulders to push him forward. One of his arms was draped over the boy's shoulders before the boy dragged Crona up off of the seat, the boy grunting as he took the brunt of Crona's weight. "Dang, yer gonna need ter eat pretty soon. Yer lighter than I am." The boy licked his lips as he half carried half dragged Crona across the room to a strap covered table. "Speaking of eating, I've got hurry this up, or I'm gonna get left eating salad… again. Just cause I'm the runt doesn't mean that I'm a vegetarian."

Crona was unceremoniously dumped onto the table, the boy rushing through the task of fastening the various restraints. He cursed loudly as he twisted up some of the leather straps, having to untangle them before he could go on.

"Ooh… This meat's reeeal good ternight, don't yer think?"

"Oh aye, so juicy and tender. Just the way Junior likes it, isn't it?"

"That's right! Too bad he's taking so long…"

The boy cursed again, louder this time. "That's just plain mean." He groaned wistfully, his tongue flickering out to run across his teeth as he gazed at the door. "I should go out and get some before those two actually do eat all of the meat up; after all you're gonna be out of it for a while." The boy still hesitated, eying the remaining straps, but he growled and darted for the door when more comments on how good the food was drifted into the room.

Crona's last coherent thought was one of irritated anger, frustration at the fact that he was this close to escape wriggling through his mind as he slipped into dark unconsciousness.

A little while later…

Crona bit back a pained yelp as he woke up, his mouth one big raw wound from where the spiked ball had been doing some serious damage. He had a strong suspicion that that was what had woken him up, but for once he was very glad for the additional pain.

His tormentors had apparently not come back to finish tying him down, the restraints for his left arm still lying limp on the table next to him. Crona swiftly undid the straps that ran over his throat, chest and right arm, sitting up to undo the restraints over his legs. Then he yanked the tape off of his mouth, wincing as he slowly pulled his jaw open and wiggled the ball out from where it had sunk into the roof of his mouth, having to quickly bite down on his shirt sleeve to keep from howling in pain. Crona grimaced at the taste of his black blood, his white shirt stained beyond repair with black streaks and spots.

"Ragnaroc!" he whispered urgently, getting to his feet. "R-Ragnaroc, I n-need your help r-right now!" Crona felt butterflies of worry for his Weapon start to flutter around in his stomach when Ragnaroc didn't reply; fear of what his torturers might have done to the rude Sword twisting his stomach into hard knots. He tried to ignore that for the moment, grabbing a scalpel off of the table in the room to use as a temporary weapon as Crona got ready to make a break.

He took a deep breath, walked over to the door, and carefully cracked it open a sliver. Peering out, Crona saw that the small building he was in was at the side of a large cemetery, gravestones dotting the large courtyard around him. No one was in sight but a tall stone wall surrounded the entire cemetery, broken only by a thick metal gate. Crona pulled the door open as quietly as he could, finding when he had stepped outside that the building he had been kept in was actually a crypt. "That's n-not encouraging."

He softly crept across the deserted area, scalpel held tightly in his hand, all senses on high alert for any sound or movement. Crona made it over to the metal gate without incident, flinching as the iron gate swung open with a loud screech. He darted back and got ready to attack the first person to come charging in, waiting in the shadows like Lady Medusa had taught him. Crona didn't know what to think as minute after minute went by without a fuss, the evening light getting dimmer and dimmer as time went by. He slowly padded out, muscles tense as he waited for an attacker to jump him from some hidden spot… But nothing happened. Crickets chirped noisily, cicadas buzzed, and the wind rustled the tree branches and swept through the grass; all perfectly normal noises.

Crona kept his guard up but began to move quicker, boots crunching the grass as he began to jog forward, headed for a wooded area a few dozen yards away. He reached the tree line and began to relax a little, figuring that if anyone was going to stop him, they would have done it by now. Crona trotted into a small clearing, pausing momentarily to catch his breath and figure out what to do next.

"Hello." The deep voice made Crona jump and spin, growing agitated as he searched frantically for the source of the sound. "You're very fast." The voice was familiar; the same voice that had talked to him before the three tormentors had arrived, and the one that had been speaking with the girl. "I wasn't expecting you for another five minutes, at least."

"Y-you were exp-p-pecting me?"

"Yes. I only gave Cerberus a quarter dose of the sedation drug; I figured that you could figure out how to escape the rest of the way on your own. I must admit, I was merely guessing on which direction you would run once you had escaped, but as you can see, it was a successful guess." Crona's gaze snapped over to fix on the large figure that had just dropped out of one of the trees, landing on the ground in a crouch with a huff before slowly straightening. "In any case, I fear that the time has come for me to destroy you."

A brief smirk flashed across Crona's face. "I can't tell you how many times I've heard that… I've hoped that someone would follow through with their threat, but no one is ever able to."

"Well. They're trying to kill you. I, on the other hand, will be breaking you; something for which I wish to apologize to you for from the bottom of my heart." The voice sounded genuinely sorry, making Crona's lips twitch up in a sad smile.

"Don't apologize. You can't break something that's already been broken beyond repair." He brought the scalpel up into a guard position, wishing that Ragnaroc would hurry up and pop out.

"Allow me to introduce myself, since I already know who you are." Glowing orange eyes stared at Crona from the shadows, the figure slowly striding towards him. "My name… is Timor."


	14. Chapter 14 - Lies and Fighting with Fear

**Chapter Fourteen**

Crona's POV 

Timor looked to be about seventeen or eighteen, managing to simultaneously pull off a tall, somewhat lanky look while still being beefy. He had electric orange eyes, buzz-cut gray hair, and wore a white tank top, black gloves and blue jeans.

"D-doesn't Timor mean 'fear' in… Greek?" Crona asked, racking his brain. He could remember the translation from hours in the library with Maka, but not the language.

Timor flashed a surprised smile, giving Crona a short, approving nod. "Latin, actually… but yes. There are actually surprisingly few who know that." His small smile disappeared a moment later, the boy almost visibly remembering that he was supposed to be enemies with Crona. "In any case, my parents actually changed my name when I turned seven or so; it used to be Alex. Do you know why they did that?"

Crona frowned, still waiting for Ragnaroc. "Named you Alex?"

Timor blinked, the edges of his lips twitching up for the barest second before he shook his head and regained his 'intimidating' look. "No, why they changed it to a name that means fear."

"Y-You were scared of a lot?" Crona suggested hopefully, his hopes falling as Timor shook his head again.

"No, it was because that while most people fall into one of seven categories; regular people, Maisters, Weapons, Kishin Eggs, Kishin, Witches and Shinigami, I and some of my other family members are in a category never before seen or heard of. I have the unique talent of being able to literally use your fears against you." Timor lifted one hand, palm up, and made Crona jump backwards in alarm as violent red sparks crackled around the other boy's hand, falling to the ground in small explosions of scarlet. "This will probably hurt."

That was all the warning that the older teen gave before lunging towards Crona, but he still managed to duck out of Timor's reach. Crona silently thanked his mother for non-intentionally giving him the speed that he possessed, since that was the only thing that was keeping him from being forced to undergo whatever new torture that this tormentor had planned for him. He dodged the attacking hand, quickly slicing at Timor's arm with the scalpel. Crona missed and barely managed to avoid being caught as he stumbled back. He soon figured out that he was eventually going to get tagged if he stayed here much longer, there only being so many times that Crona could dodge a blow before he grew sloppy.

Crona turned and darted away, headed for the tall fence that surrounded the graveyard. He scanned the stone, looking for a gate or door, but all he could see was more and more stone. Finally, Crona's eyes spotted a small door set into the flat wall and he veered towards it, grabbing the handle and giving it a hard yank.

It refused to open, the wooden frame jiggling mockingly as Crona slammed his shoulder against it to see if it opened outward instead. Suddenly, something pressed against Crona's back, red-hot pain quickly shooting through his head as he slumped against the door, his legs turning to rubber underneath him. "That isn't actually a door; it's just a decoration that Uncle put there to irritate guests." Timor's voice was calm, his bright orange eyes almost sad as he watched Crona collapse.

Crona growled as his head throbbed in pain, feeling like it was about to burst into pieces at any second from the agonizing pressure. It didn't help as Timor continued to speak, his deep voice making Crona's head hurt even worse. "This shouldn't take all that long, if it's any consolation. You're afraid of so much that this should be over with quickly. One of the most repetitive is the fear of what could have been… Let's start with that, shall we?"

Crona's vision went red, the pain flaring to an unbearable level before disappearing completely, his sight returning to normal. He shakily got to his feet, grabbing the back of a nearby pew to steady himself. "What?"

He looked around, trying to figure out what had just happened. Crona had collapsed outside in a dark graveyard, but now he was standing in the dimly lit hall of a church.

"Maka!"

Crona spun towards Soul's voice, his relief at finding one of his friends tempered by the fear in the Weapon's cry. Crona blinked in surprise, not understanding what was going on as he saw what was happening on the other end of the building.

Maka was dodging the tip of a large black sword, the swordsman wielding it looking more and more frustrated as she managed to avoid being skewered again and again. Maka chanced a glance behind her, her face hardening in determination as she saw two large double doors. "We're getting out of here!"

She broke off from her fight to smash her shoulder into the doors, only to find that they wouldn't open. "Open up!"

"That's not going to work, you know." The swordsman spoke, his quietly smug voice tinged with insanity. He chuckled once, raising his sword. "You really should start paying attention to the things other people say."

Crona was having a major sense of déjà vu, although he was having difficulty figuring out what was causing it. He thought that it had something to do with the boy that was attacking Maka, his entire being seeming so familiar. Familiar or not, Crona wasn't about to stand for anyone attacking Maka. He darted forward to step between the two figures, wishing that Ragnaroc would hurry up and wake up.

Maka pressed against the doors, her gloved hands shaking until she tightened her grip on Soul. "Oh no…"

The familiar swordsman let out a maniacal laugh as Crona ran towards them, almost halfway across the room now. "The doors here only open one way! They open INWARDS!"

"Maka! STOP HIM NOW!" Crona jumped over the back of a pew, hurrying as fast as he could through the maze of seats.

"But Soul, if I guard, you'll die!" He ran faster as the swordsman tightened his grip on his sword, preparing to strike. Crona was only a few yards off, he was going to make it… He had to…

KerSHINGGG!

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Crona skidded to a halt beside the swordsman, his legs beginning to tremble as he beheld the horrible scene before him. "N-no, no, n-n-n-no…" He fell to his knees, feeling Raven's insane comfort washing questioningly at the entrance of his mind, a mad grin beginning to crack across his face.

"Maka, why didn't you just guard?" Soul held the limp form of his Maister, a long crimson slash splitting her lithe form nearly in two. He looked up at the boy next to Crona, hatred in his red eyes. "I'm going to kill you for this, you monster!"

Crona was still in shock, so much so that he wasn't able to move fast enough to stop the boy beside him as the swordsman tilted his head and swung his sword again. Soul gurgled wetly, one of his hands going up to the weeping scarlet grin at his throat, before he slowly slumped over Maka's body – Maister and Weapon companions even in death.

The swordsman began to laugh jerkily, his shoulders shaking with amusement, and turned just enough so that Crona could finally see his red-streaked face. He stared in horror at the unevenly cropped light lavender hair, the silver eyes that were practically dancing in madness, and the wide, wide grin that was spread across his face.

"Well done, Crona." Lady Medusa's velvet voice purred, the cold sound only in the two boys' minds. "Eat their souls, and join me out in the courtyard. There are about to be two more actors in my little show."

"Of course, Lady Medusa." The other Crona bowed slightly, then winced as Ragnaroc flowed back into his wrist and out the other Crona's back.

"It's about time, too! I'm starving!" The Weapon punched his Crona's head, the blow making the other Crona rock slightly. "Get over there and get their souls for me! HURRY UP!"

"Okay, okay." Crona watched in mute despair as his other self stumbled over to the two bodies, plunging his hand deep into their cores to yank out their soft blue souls. Crona had done this a lot before meeting Maka; regular people's' souls just appeared over their bodies after they died and Kishin Eggs' bodies disappeared after they died, leaving only their red souls, but Maister and Weapon souls took on slightly more corporeal forms inside the body of the deceased, having to be removed by hand. Ragnaroc greedily grabbed the blue orbs, gulping them both down in one bite. The Weapon stiffened, his muscled body tensing as Ragnaroc rode out his short soul high before relaxing and sliding back into Crona's back with a blissed out smile on his shiny face.

"Wh-what is this?" Crona sobbed, fingers curling painfully tight in his hair as he tried to push Raven's insanity back, determined to keep hold of his sanity until he found out what was going on. He flinched as a loud howl of pain echoed through the church hall, Spirit running over to his daughter's unmoving form.

"NO! My baby girl…"

"Spirit…" Dr. Stein set a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "I sympathize with you, but we need to take care of the Kishin Egg that did this to-"

"Shut up!"

Crona's mouth was dry, tears running down his cheeks. He stiffened and leapt to his feet as his doppelganger jumped down from the rafters in the roof, Sword Ragnaroc in hand once more.

Stein spun but wasn't able to avoid the surprise blow, the hand sparking with his soul's energy fading as the professor crumpled to the floor. Spirit didn't even look up, tears flowing down his cheeks as the Scythe cradled Maka's body, as Ragnaroc's blade ripped through his chest.

Crona growled and lunged forward, intent on killing himself with his bare hands… Then he fell to the floor, struck down by a headache so bad it felt as though his other self had just smashed Ragnaroc against his skull.

"Why is this h-h-h-happening? Why c-can't I DO anything?"

He howled as one of the worst headaches he had had yet smashed through his head, making him lose consciousness again.

Maka's POV 

Just as Maka was about to go into her father's room, a hand settled on her shoulder, making her jump. "I thought it was weird for you to go out to get sandwiches instead of just making some over at Kid's. It's not cool to keep secrets from your partner, Maka." She turned to see Soul, a patient smile showing off her Weapon partner's sharp teeth. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Checking out a hunch."

Soul leaned against the wall next to her, red eyes silently encouraging her to continue. "Go on…"

She sighed and slumped back against the wall as well, making a small face. This wasn't going to be easy; telling someone else made this seem all the more real…

"You know how Crona and I weren't getting along, right?"

Soul smirked and raised an eyebrow, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "Yup. I like to think that I've got a good enough memory to remember the only time since you two met that you avoided each other for an entire week."

"Well, I was mad at him because he had told me that he had seen Spirit… doing things."

Soul made a face, sticking out his tongue. "I would think that you'd be mad at your dad, not Crona. Poor guy was probably traumatized."

Maka frowned in confusion, then smacked Soul on the arm when his words clicked. "Not like that! Crona said that he had seen Papa doing weird things like changing pills in a bottle and messing with Lord Death's tea bag or something, and that he had seen Papa walking around. I didn't believe him, but now that it's between what some unnamed jerk says and what Crona says… I don't know. I came here to talk to Spirit and see what he has to say before I make my mind up on anything."

"Cool." Soul grinned jaggedly as he pushed himself off of the wall. "So that's all that you two were avoiding each other over? Gotta say, I thought it was something bigger."

"Papa possibly having poisoned Lord Death isn't big enough for you?"

"That's not what I'm saying… What I meant was is that it doesn't seem like you two to get so uptight over Crona pulling your tail, so to speak." Her partner shrugged, running a few fingers under his headband.

"Well, he also had been lying to me about he had gotten beat up. That in combination with 'falsely' accusing my dad of poisoning the headmaster…"

"How'd he actually get all those bruises? Did Ragnaroc start beating him up again?"

"No, it turns out that he's still being bullied by other students here at the Academy."

"What? I thought that you said that he'd promised to tell someone if that started up again after-"

Maka scowled, her hands tightening into balls at her sides. "I know."

"Ah." Soul shifted, probably picking up on her bad mood. "So, you want some backup in there?"

"Sure, thanks."

"No problem."

Maka steeled herself and swung the hospital door open, walking in with Soul at her back.

"Baby girl! You've finally come to check on your bedridden papa!" Maka sighed at her dad's exuberant greeting, already wishing that she could leave.

"Hello, Papa."

"Sup, Spirit?"

"So what's going on in your day?"

Maka blinked, not sure that she'd heard Spirit correctly. "What?"

"What's happening in my little angel's life?" Gooey sky blue eyes practically oozed interest in her direction, something that was as common as Crona yelling or Black Star whispering. While Spirit could be extremely overenthusiastic about seeing her, he hadn't really been curious about what she had been doing for years.

"Um… We're trying to find Crona; he's been missing for the last week."

Was it just her imagination, or had her papa just flinched?

Spirit chuckled and scratched the back of his head, sitting up in his bed. "I hope you find him, I know how close you two are."

Maka stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"Aren't you two a couple?"

Maka turned bright red. "N-no! We're just friends!"

This was definitely unlike her papa… actually noticing smaller details in other people's lives… not to mention the fact that he wasn't threatening to kill Crona if he so much as laid a finger on her. Maka had lost count of the times that Spirit had roared warnings to Soul, though her partner was generally nonplussed by the older Scythe's tantrums. What was going on?

"So, what're you doing here?"

"Before he disappeared, Crona told me some weird things. I just came here to hear what your version of the last few weeks is."

Maka blinked; she could have sworn that Spirit's eyes had just flashed gold when she mentioned Crona. But that was impossible…

"Well, I got the cr- ah… the snot beat out of me, then spent the rest of the time here in bed." Spirit shrugged uncomfortably, looking up at the ceiling.

"What aren't you telling me?" Maka felt her heart beat speed up a few notches as her papa glanced at her briefly, an unusual look in his eyes, before sighing heavily and plopping back on his bed.

"Maka, I don't want you to get hurt. All I'm going to say on the matter is that it may be a good thing that Crona left when he did."

Maka felt a growl rising. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." Spirit rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed again. "Please go to class and just forget about Crona, he probably just ran off."

Maka started to turn and storm off, but stopped as something under his bed caught her eye. She frowned, wondering why Spirit had a sketchpad under his mattress, then stiffened as a thought occurred to her. Maka walked back over to the side of the bed and began to pull it out, pausing in surprise as Spirit sat up sharply. "Leave that alone, Maka. That's private."

She ignored him and wrestled it free the last little bit, finding that it was in fact Crona's sketchpad. "Why do you have Crona's drawings?"

"I said that's mine. Give it back, right now."

Maka snarled, irritated that all the people around her seemed to have decided that she was a good person to lie to. She flipped the book open, displaying the various beautiful scenes held within. "I don't remember you ever being this good of an artist, papa."

Spirit closed his eyes and let out a loud, angry growl. "Why have you never listened to a word that I've ever said? All I've ever tried to do was help you, and yet you refuse to allow that." He opened his eyes and frowned at the ceiling. "Fine. That is Crona's sketch book. He dropped it here when he tried to kill me the other night. Happy?"

Maka blanched, hurt as much by Spirit's words as by the tone he held. She hadn't heard that tone since he had used it on her mother, years ago when they had gotten their divorce. Maka wavered, about to continue questioning him, but that was when her father turned and she saw his eyes. They burned golden silver, a sharp difference to their normal sky blue color. She took an involuntary step back, and watched in confusion as they quickly faded back to blue as his expression changed to one of concern. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah…" Maka thought quickly. "It's just a shock to hear that Crona could have betrayed everyone like that. I… I think I need to go think about this." She turned and walked away as fast as she could, her heart pounding a beat in her chest. Soul hurried after her, his footsteps loud in the deserted corridor. When he caught up with her, he grabbed her elbow to make her pause.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the heck, Maka?! You don't believe Lord Death when he believes that Crona's guilty, but after one minute of talking with your dad, you're convinced of his guilt? That's not like you."

"No, it's just that now I know with absolute certainty that Papa was involved in this somehow."

Soul's earnest face filled with confusion. "Wh-what?"

"Did you see his eyes?" Maka asked, hoping that she wasn't the only one who had noticed.

"I guess, why?"

Maka frowned in frustration, knowing that if Soul had seen Spirit's eyes change color, he wouldn't have had to ask. "They changed color, Soul."

"What?"

Maka rubbed her forehead, remembering her last conversation with Crona.

 _Maka scowled at the pale boy, her frustration causing her to be short with him."Crona, I don't know what to tell you! The last time you lied to me, you ended up running away from the academy because you had put one of Medusa's snakes into Miss Marie's coffee. I don't want to wake up one day and find you gone again, I couldn't stand it! If you can't tell me what's going on, I really don't want to talk with you right now."_

 _She felt bad as Crona visibly pulled into himself more and more during her lecture, but that faded slightly as he gulped and nodded. "A-alright."_

 _She straightened, relief flooding her mind. Maka had been afraid that Crona no longer trusted her, but she was glad that she had been wrong._

 _"Ab-bout a week after you left is when Spirit first woke up, and Ragnaroc and I noticed that his eyes changed colors every now and then. I don't know if that has anything to do with the stuff he's been doing, but-" Crona shrugged as Maka's spirits fell, her hands clenching into fists as her temper began to rise. She really hated being lied to, especially from Crona. "A-anyway, the morning that you guys came back, D-Doctor Stein was making up some t-tea bags for Lord Death. He h-had to leave to do something, and Sp-Spirit had me go get him some aspirin, and when I c-came back in…" Crona's hands also clenched into fists, though his looked more like he was gathering together his courage than getting angry. "Sp-Spirit had done something to Lord Death's tea bags. Later on, D-Doctor Stein came back and told us that L-Lord Death wasn't feeling well."_

 _Maka couldn't believe what she had just heard, and gave Crona an almost deadly glare as he glanced up, barely feeling a twinge as he flinched and tightened his grip on his arm. "You're blaming my dad for Lord Death's illness again?"_

Maka looked up, green eyes pained. "Crona told me that Papa's eyes were changing colors just before he disappeared… I didn't believe him." She growled and slammed a fist against the closest wall. "Why couldn't I believe him?"

Soul shrugged and rested an arm on her shoulder. "I dunno, maybe because that sounds nuts if you haven't seen it? If I didn't know that you had destroyed Asura, I'd have thought that his madness had gotten to you after hearing something like that." He winked and smirked as he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets, fortunately having missed her slight flinch at the mention of Asura. "Anyway, what're we gonna do now? You're the 'plan' person."

Maka closed her eyes in concentration, trying to think of something that would help. The thing that they had to figure out now was how to figure out where Crona was… and that was easier said than done. It wasn't as though they could ask Spirit, the last person to have seen Crona, and Lord Death wasn't in his right mind at the moment. To tell the truth, there wasn't anything that Maka could think of that could lead them to where Crona was.

"I… I don't know what to do…"


End file.
